Memories under the bed

Before digital photography, you had to take a roll of film to the store and have them develop it. The anticipation of going to the store to get the pictures and then getting the package and rushing home to see which ones came out, which ones didn't. My mother always cut of heads. There are a few pictures she has in her multitude of albums are people we don't know because they have no heads.

I still love taking pictures with my "real" camera. I call it my REAL camera because, to me, a digital camera or heaven forbid, a camera phone, aren't real. I love getting the film to the store and I don't even use the one hour photo. I want that anticipation in this world of instant gratification.

And under my bed is a big, flat box. In that box are memories. Many, many memories. And one day, these many, many memories will combine with my mother's many many memories and then those will be in the possession of my daughter. This is called immortality. My grandchildren will look at the pictures with their children and tell them who I was and what I was like. I will live forever, in memories under the bed.