Carrying the Story

One of the first things I learned about Ryan's mom was her love for pictures. I discovered in the days following her death that she had always loved pictures. They brought out boxes filled to the brim with double prints (remember those?) of all sorts of pictures from the the kids' childhood years. They said there were even more somewhere...to be stumbled upon later.

By the time I really got to know her, though, she had taken classes in photography and invested in a big camera. She took such beautiful pictures, and I always loved seeing what she captured through her lenses. 

Photos were common ground for us. Admittedly I was nervous to bring my memory-making self into a family with a memory-making matriarch, but she made room for my camera to capture life right alongside hers. We shared our finds with one another, and a few times, we even worked side by side!

(This was a picture of us from the night we were photographers at WBCL's Daddy Daughter Date Night.)

Nita took our engagement pictures, many photos at our wedding, and our annual photos for a few years after that. She always showed up with her heavy bag, laden with lenses and cameras, to match her mind - laden with ideas for us. 

(I loved that bag, though after carrying it for her a dozen or so blocks through downtown Indianapolis one night, I had a healthy respect for just how heavy it was!)

So when we began to sort through her belongings, I realized all I really wanted - if I could have it - was that bag. She had given me many beautiful gifts throughout the years we shared together, and I still have and treasure those things she chose for me. They were enough, and I didn't need to bring home more boxes of things for the house. But if I could have the camera bag, I would consider it an honor.

That bag was more than just pretty and durable. It was the carrier of the stories. It had accompanied her so many places and protected the stories she collected through the lenses of her cameras. It was dear to her and always with her, no matter what.

We brought it home a few weeks ago, and Ryan cleaned it up so it would be all ready for me. One morning when I had a little free time, I pulled my own camera and accessories out of my starter bag I've carried for the last several years. I carefully found a home for each item down inside the beautiful new-to-me bag and stood back to look. 

There it was.

Her sturdy bag with her scarf tied on the corner, just where she left it. 

Nita was a sentimental soul, and I really think it would have made her so happy to know this bag will still carry stories. It will still protect captured memories. And every time I carry it with me, I'll think of her and hope that somehow, the stories I tell through my own lenses will honor the memory-making she loved so dearly.