How do you say goodbye to imperfect perfection? I guess you can say I have a bit of experience with that…I’ve become a pro at it. So I’ll go ahead and just tell you how I do it. Turn around and walk away as quickly as possible. And don’t look back. And force yourself to forget as much of the perfect imperfection as possible. Many say that’s the easy way out. But I’m here to tell you it isn’t. The memories still haunt you as you move into your next new life. If you get real good at goodbyes, you learn to push those memories down until they are nothing but a blur. But the real experience comes when you allow yourself to feel. It is then when you learn to truly let go and able to open those old folders on your external hard drive that you’ve been avoiding.
One such folder on my hard drive is simply labeled “Tea Party”. It held the precious photos taken the week we were selling our cabin in the Red River Gorge. My friend StephKeller came down for a tea party I was throwing. She actually didn’t tell me she was coming…her and Lila schemed up a plan and surprised me. Putting all that aside…let’s just say that Steph knows me. She has seen me walk away. And she has seen how it can hurt me in the long run. Steph wanted to take photos of me taking photos in the gorge. So I could look back on them and remember when I was ready.
Today was that day. I needed some room on the external drive and was culling my folders when I came up on “Tea Party”. I culled all the other folders and finally double clicked on this folder. That time in my life was absolute craziness…we were selling the cabin in Kentucky while attempting to open up a Coffee Shop in Colorado. That week especially was crazy…it was the week we put the cabin up for sale.
Inside the folder were the expected photos of the tea party. I think I may have even posted some of them on Facebook. There were also the images of me and Steph hiking the next morning…such a cherished moment…Steph and I are soul sisters but because of our busy careers we never had a ton of time to hang out. I always took our time for granted when I lived in Cincy. It wasn’t until I moved to the Gorge that I realized just how special our friendship was. I allowed myself to go thru the photos of our hike. Steph had the camera most of the time. She photographed me in my element…the Red River Gorge. Now when I look back at those images I can see that connection. I belonged there.
Just as I was about ready to select all the raw files and toss them, I noticed there were more. I had completely forgotten that she had taken photos of the two weddings from later that day. She put herself in stealth mode. And instead of photographing the bride and groom…she photographed me. Me in all my glory of messy hair, tousled clothes, and scrunched up shooting face. She captured me laughing and interacting with the couple and their guest. She was doing for me what I had taught her to do. Capturing memories of my time in the Red River Gorge. She knew how I was…she had seen me walk away before. She knew I’d want to see these photos some day. There are so many good ones! Mostly because you can see how much I loved what I was doing. But these are the two I’m choosing to post because to me they convey what I feel when I walk away. They are two shots taken seconds apart…of me photographing the couple on top of an arch. The first one is blurry. This is how I remember that time in my life…because I refuse to think about shooting My Tiny Weddings. Because of that, the memories have become blurred. This is what I see in my head when I think about that time and place.
The second one is sharp and in focus. Still a beautiful image and still conveys a feeling for me….late day, beautiful lighting…warmth…but I can see the details. In the 2nd photo I can hear the wedding guest below at the arch. I can hear myself talking to the couple. I can hear Lila jumping in the car before each wedding, “I brought snacks!” I can remember…the whippoorwills…the smells…the laughter…Dave’s soothing voice calming the nervous couple. I can remember.
Thank-you Steph for giving me something I didn’t know I would need. That was such a special time in my life. I don’t want to forget it.