Today I sifted through a huge box of old photos. My sister wanted some shots of her and I together. Looking through the box I found tons of pics, but only a few shots of my wife and I. Now granted, it's not the same box with our wedding pictures in it, and since we've been married we've had a digital camera….
Ok, yeah I know, I've just explained away why there weren't many pictures of her in the box, but that's not my point. My unsupported point is this: I have piles of pictures of everyone else. From parents, grandparents, sisters, ex girlfriends, even girls I never dated, but only three or four pictures of my wife. I can check the digital camera folder on my computer, but I know what I'll find: I have more pictures of our cats than I have of my wife.
Before you start pointing and yelling "See? I knew you were an asshole," wait. I'm not saying I'm not one, but not about this. She hates having her picture taken. The few shots I find are either blurry action shots of her diving behind a hedge like the camera is a drive by attempt, or a huge middle finger displaying her philosophy on picture taking. I don't have many shots of me either. Not that I need them, I know what I look like, but she hasn't even pointed a camera at me since 2000. She has taken some great shots of storm clouds, ships on rocks, and hungry predators. If only they meant something.
Now your looking at me like I'm a weirdo. "Is he saying that because she doesn't involve herself with American vanity camera rituals, he's happy she wants a divorce?"
No, that's not what I'm saying. I'm just documenting facts. A picture is a document of the people we know, some we love, some just decided they needed to be in your picture, so you obliged them. (Yes I'm talking about you Kirby, thanks for ruining my wedding shots. I hope you never get all the blue frosting from your butt crack.) But years later you'll be able to look through your big box and go, "Look, that's Kirby."
When my wife is gone, what will I have left? Blur, the finger and that's it. I mean the times aren't great right now, but I spent 7 hears with her. Sure at my most bitter moments, I consider it a complete waste of time, but I'd at least like something to show for it. I wasted 4 years in college and I still got some fancy calligraphy and a nifty tassel. I want something for my time.
Maybe it's selfish, maybe I can pretend I mattered to somebody. I'll show the future Mrs. Rob pictures ('cuz that always goes over real well…) saying, "See, this his how I spent the early Millennium years." She'll clench her fists and go, "that's great honey." But at least I'll know I meant something. I didn't just take up space on this wasteful planet of ours, I gave something, and I got pictures to prove it.
That's her watching me wash dishes
That's her watching me mow the lawn
That's her watching me try to figure out what the hell went wrong. Is she smiling..?
She's already told me she wants the Christmas ornaments, but that she'll leave me with the tree. Yeah, I'm a writer, the metaphor of a barren faux tree didn't escape me either. But anyway, I think she expected a fight over the ornaments. I didn't want them. We picked those out together, I couldn't take that.
Sure, I know what I said, yeah, I want pictures. Something I can store in a box and pull out when I'm drunk and depressed. I don't need a fir full of memories standing over an empty tree skirt staring at me for a month of cheer and good will. No thanks. She can keep that.
She may not have been the best thing to happen in my life, but she happened. And I may not have pictures, but I will always have memories. Memories of our first apartment, of the first car we bought together, our first big vacation, of the time our transmission blew up, leaving us stranded in Vegas for a week with no money, and yes, most certainly of our wedding day. Everything up until the day we moved to this house, the rest is a blur and a finger.
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