24/03/2024
"The Keeper of the Memories"
Photographs, to me, are both a blessing and a burden.
I love to look back through our memories, to see how much the kids have grown, and all the adventures we've been on.
I have photographs from their first minutes on this earth, their milestones and a lifetime of ordinary moments in between - and they are amongst my most precious possessions.
The burden of being the Keeper of the Memories is the cost of having them.
Taking them.
Organising them.
Storing them.
Sharing them.
I know it's hard to think about, morbid even perhaps, but I can't help but think, if something were to ever happen to me, how many photographs would *I*, the Keeper of Memories, be in?
I have one quarter-filled photo album of my first 21 years of life.
After that, maybe it's 90% selfies, 4% professional photos, 4% "Can you please take a photo of me?", 1% "Do you want me to take a photo of you?" and 1% "I took this while you weren't watching because I thought it was worth capturing."
As the Keeper of the Memories, my favourite photographs are the candid ones, the moments I see that simply exist, or unfold, in life - unposed, the camera unnoticed. These are the most precious memories for me, yet I exist in so few of them.
I know it's hard to think about, morbid even perhaps, but I can't help but think, if something were to ever happen to my children, how would these photographs make me feel?
I would feel beyond grateful for every single photograph and video I have that shows their time on this earth.
I would thank myself for being the Keeper of the Memories, knowing that the decades of work I had put in taking them, organising and storing them had left me with a way of forever remembering them - every detail of their face, every expression, all the hugs, laughter, adventure, everyday extraordinariness.
I would feel pangs of sadness as I sift through their lifetime of memories, and see myself represented in so few, while others have a collection of beautiful, candid, unposed photographs that show their connection as a parent, a grandparent, a cousin, a friend...
That is the burden of being the Keeper of Memories.
I want to acknowledge all of us, The Keepers of the Memories, for our work - I see it, I feel it, I *know* it.
I see you making sure the cameras, the GoPros, the phones are charged before a special occasion.
I see you transferring onto computers snd hard drives, organising cloud backups, figuring out how to add the cost into the already tight budget, because even though it's only a few dollars a month, it all adds up.
I see you on social media, adding captions to the photos so in future years, it will pop up as a memory and remind you of all the details of that moment you found so cute, or special, or worth capturing.
I see you struggling to decide whether to capture the moment or be *in* the moment, because you know that if you, the Keeper of the Memories, doesn't capture it, it may be a moment that exists only until your memory fades, but if you capture it, you won't be fully present.
I see you, feeling the weight of responsibility that comes with being the Keeper of the Memories, because it's important to you, even if it's not so important to anyone else.
Until it is.
Until a person's time on earth ends, and the photographs are all that is left. Your years, or decades, of work - of sacrificing presence, giving up time, making the effort - are all that is left of that person.
Until age catches up, and memories become fuzzy, and all of those people and moments and adventures you thought you'd remember forever are slipping from your grasp.
Will they be important to everyone else then?
Or do these things only ever matter to us, the Keepers of the Memories?
Capturing Birth and Life Stories ~ maternity, birth, newborn and family photographer and videographer serving Mackay and the Whitsundays.
