The beauty of photographs is that they can frame one single split-second moment of your life to help you remember good times. The rest of the story on how you got to the picture or what happened after becomes history and remains a flitting memory that may or may not be triggered to resurface once the photograph is again seen. One such precious instant happened when I was eight years old… an age where I used to find so much delight in simple things such as a photography session with my brothers.
My eyes in the picture are sparkling with laughter at all the trouble my mom had to go through for this snapshot. It was nearly father’s day and my mom thought a great secret gift would be a professionally shot picture of all three of us children. As soon as lunch was over, she quickly packed all of us up and we went to this posh photo studio.
While waiting for our turn, she excitedly dressed us all up in such fine and neatly pressed clothes (as if the wrinkles would be noticeable on film).
My hair was combed probably more than one hundred times over just to make sure no single strand would go astray out of her plan. As we were passing the time till our photo opportunity, mom would keep our energy up by making us practice different kinds of poses and smiles. A few more minutes passed and my mom was already getting impatient with all the excitement. Alas! The photographer came up to my mom just to tell her that there seemed to be something wrong with the camera and that he could not take our pictures at that moment.
Horrified and panicky due to the unexpected long time of having to wait for a useless chance to get some shots professionally done, my mom swiftly packed all of us up at once and went home. We wanted to laugh at mom’s dismay over the problems of this great idea of hers but we knew better than to irk her even more. As soon as we got home, she quickly brushed us up and with quick thinking, got our own camera to make her own snapshots instead. It was not hard for us to smile as we knew the pains she was going through just to keep her hand still on the camera button.
We all knew that our father was about to arrive in just a few minutes and her panic was with cause. After some quick clicks, she quickly made us dress up into our play clothes again and had us do some wrestling matches just to erase the more than 100 times brushed up look she gave our hair. This was one of the most enjoyable memories of my life yet the camera was only able to show three children with smiles on their faces…everything else precious was left for us to relive in our own imaginations.