Photos melt my heart | Photos #1
Photos melt my heart. Especially when they capture someone I love in a moment of truth. This is the first in a series of old photos I’m especially fond of. Each was taken during the years D was a professor at the Bible College, Fall 1969 through Spring 1973. Brief and memorable.
Our son was 1 year old when we moved from Boston to Columbia, South Carolina in 1969. One of our first road trips was in August, to visit my parents and sisters in Savannah, Georgia. Of course we went to Tybee Island for a day. As you can see above, it was hard slogging with all the baby paraphernalia.
You can also see the jug of water/iced tea in the seat of the stroller. The two striped towels are ready for anything. The straw pocketbook is mine–it appears in several photos of me during this era! The other pocketbook belongs to Sister #2 who was there with her firstborn son–about a year older than ours. And yes, we have two diaper bags, along with a sunbonnet and who knows what else.
Why do I love this photo? Partly because our son looks like he’s eating or tasting sand! Ever inquisitive, rarely in slow motion, he has always been an adventurer. I can’t remember that he was ever camera-shy, either! Nothing made him happier than going new places and seeing new things. He also had a heart for animals–see next photo.
This was taken in Summer 1971. Our daughter is a year old; our son is about 2 1/2. We’re visiting my parents in Savannah. This is their living room. I don’t know where the puppies came from. I think it was the first time our children had seen and held puppies–way better than seeing them in pet shops!
I see joy, curiosity and even awe in each of them. Especially in the way our son holds and looks at one puppy, and in our daughter’s body language and hesitation about picking up the second puppy. We didn’t have a pet in the house until 1973, after we moved from Columbia. That was a kitty who became a cat. Which is another story.
I don’t know the story of these puppies. I only know the story of the two beautiful small human puppies meeting two other little puppies. Each of them vulnerable and worthy of our joy, curiosity and even awe. Strangers who’ve just arrived on this earth.
And one more. Our daughter on a road trip in 1972. We drove from Columbia to Texas to see Diane (Sister #3) and her husband. We then drove on to the West Coast. Along the way to Texas, we crossed the mighty Mississippi River. Here’s what I saw:
I love this unrehearsed, unplanned moment of truth. Our daughter has had music inside of her since before she was born. When she was young she danced to music of any kind. Here she’s dancing to the music of the wind and to music we can’t yet hear.
Her intent look is characteristic. She’s listening to her own music and making it external. So simple and, for me, moving. Do I see myself in her? Sometimes. But rarely with this impromptu, inborn freedom of expression.
To be continued. . . .
© Elouise Renich Fraser, 13 October 2015
Photo credit: Elouise (beach photo, summer 1969), and DAFraser (summer 1971 and 1972)