People always say it’s the ordinary moments you miss the most- so when you look at all of the posed photographs on birthdays or holidays, they just can’t capture that.
Dan and I loved photography so we were always trying to take artistic shots, rather than the posed ones. So I have those, but they’re still not the ordinary moments.
The ordinary moments, the ones I’ve been playing in my head, are just images really: of Dan quietly turning our bedroom door knob and stepping in quietly and looking at me with “hello” in his eyes when he came home late and Audrey was asleep in her room just outside our door.
Or the image of him sleeping beside me, his long eyelashes extending 1/2″ at least from his eyelid. His breath moving his chest up and down.
Or the image of him sitting at his desk listening to soccer highlights, or coming out of the shower in his boxers. Or bringing me a glass of water, or handing me some chocolate he got at work for me. Or pushing Audrey in the stroller, or driving, or flossing his teeth, or eating his favorite cheese doodles.
You don’t take pictures of those things.
And you don’t take pictures (well, normally) of your loved one’s body. You don’t take close-ups of the side of his face with the freckles you know so well, or the pores in his nose, or the birthmark on his ear that looks like he has that ear pierced, or his messy sideburns, or adam’s apple. You don’t take photos of his big toe, or muscular calf, or his fingernails, or his belly button, his elbow, or the scar on his side where he had his appendix removed.
And that seems like a shame now, because all I can rely on is my memory- the photos I’ve stored away there. I wish I could print them out somehow like we do all our digital pics these days- but I can’t. I can’t back them up on a hard drive either. I have to enjoy them now while I can, and remember…