Kodachrome

For my 62^nd birthday (gasp), my husband sent off about 12 tin boxes of hundreds and hundreds of Kodachrome slide photos to be digitized.  These slides, taken by my Dad through the years, are a chronicle of my family life from the age of 5 or so, right up to my 20s.

Dad became an avid photographer only because a friend gifted him with an old camera – his first, which was a big deal, because as a young school teacher on an annual salary of about $3500 and
3 kids at home, he didn’t have the money for such luxuries.  Boy, he babied that camera and became really skilled at getting the most out of it.  The majority of his photos were taken out of doors with natural light (again, a less costly way to take photos in those days – no expensive flash equipment required) and he loved to experiment with its most dramatic effects.

The other night I spent several hours going through this catalogue of our family in its younger days.  There were at least 2 dozen photos of Rusty, our old Maine Coon cat, who lived to be nearly 18 years old and passed away shortly after giving birth to her final litter.  (She certainly lived an “active” life!) There were even more photos of our family boats:  the first boat, a 24-foot Thompson motor craft, followed by the 30-foot Elco – my, she was “yahr” to paraphrase Katharine Hepburn – a cabin cruiser just large enough to accommodate us for long weekends at Fire Island.  Finally, there were several dozen slides of my father’s crowning glory and nearly-lifelong weekend wife:  the 48-foot Huckins, a 2-cabin wooden beauty, long and sleek and always in need of major repairs.  We’d practically live the entire summer on that boat, docked in the marina at Atlantique Beach on Fire Island, happy with our little Hibatchi-prepared meals and languid evenings after lots of sun and surf. 

Most important, there were the little milestones of our lives he captured diligently:  Jill’s “Rainbow Girls” induction ceremony, dressed in a long white gown; my first sorority formal; Lise’s first high school prom; high school graduations and first days at college.  Plus old boyfriends, BFFs, goofy haircuts, and lots and lots of mid-century fashion and furniture, a lot of it pretty unattractive -- except for us, that is.

We looked like the quintessentially healthy, happy and handsome American family of advertisers’ dreams and media invention.  We weren’t rich but we were solidly middle class AND we were trim, smiling, and cuddly.  We laughed a lot, if those pictures are to be believed.  I mean A LOT. 

Predictably, I cried a little, laughed a little and whistled under my breath as I clicked on file after file of photos.  They made me completely dizzy with memories. I picked out the ones I wanted to keep – after all, I didn’t really need to keep 30 photos of Rusty the cat with a variety of her many offspring -- which will be sent to me for safe-keeping on CD.  One day soon, I’ll go through them again, organize them and spend some quality time with my younger self.  I want to make a book out of them for my daughter and my sisters.  And possibly, share a few with all of you....

My wonderful Mr. Sedd also has been quite the chronicler of our little family together, courtesy of iPhone technology and his digital, easy-to-use Nikon.  Having just revisited my Hausrath past, I am so thrilled that David and I will have many special moments with our girl to revisit fondly as we age – and for her children, as she begins her own family in some future we may not be able to share with her. 

We can’t repeat the past, nor should we want to – but we can and should connect from time to time with our most authentic selves, wearing the funky clothes and weird hairdos… the different eras, joys and reflections of time passing in our maturing faces… that we are so blessed to experience in this wonderful journey we call life.

What a gift.