Jazz and I spent the days leading up to Christmas going through old photos from Grama’s album to make the above video for the family. I knew it would go over well, and I couldn’t think of a better gift I could give for the holidays. I wasn’t expecting how much making this video would move me.
A story emerged unexpectedly over four generations from 1910-1976. Life and death. Joy and sorrow. A real slice of life. A peak into a series of moments frozen in time from my family’s history. I felt like I was touching that history with my finger tips every time I scanned a photo. I felt like I was seeing the thoughts captured in time, behind the eyes of those who thought them.
Most of them are long dead now. The video was proof that they once lived – fully and completely. I also think the experience was coloured somewhat by some unhappy news that landed unexpected.
We tend to think we have all the time in the world to connect with the loved ones in our lives – and then word comes down that the clock is ticking – that time is rapidly, running out.
We won’t know the prognosis for a few days yet. Jazz and I will be on the highway, bound for Toronto when that news arrives.
I don’t quite know how to deal with it. It’s like if I change my patterns, it will be like I’m admitting the possibility that someone will die. If I just stay the same – keep doing things the same – maybe this will all go away. False alarm. Close call.
My life is 2,754 kilometres away. How’m I supposed to grieve from there? How’m I supposed to be from there? To act differently perhaps would be to admit that something was wrong with the relationship in the first place. To act differently, would be to BE differently when nothing was wrong to begin with.
I think I’ve said everything I’ve ever felt a need to say. I just wish I had all the time in the world to NOT say it.