In threes

This post has been stuck in limbo inside my head and my heart for some time.  I have felt stuck and unable to write ... about anything, really, and it took me some time to figure out why.  I have come to the conclusion that there were three related events that rattled my sense of self, which in turn seemed to stunt my creativity.  Each event is related to a tangible part of my past, each of which recently left my possession for a time.  It has felt almost as if I needed to have all the parts of me back together before I could get any of my thoughts out on paper. 

I’ve had some free time lately and have been working my way through the house, organizing and rummaging through closets and old boxes, which led to me looking through some of my dad’s things.  A couple of months ago I uncovered enough slides, negatives and old photographs to take advantage of a deal through Black’s where they would convert them to digital format, saving me the effort of doing them myself “one day”.  So off they went, with the promise of safe return in 6-8 weeks. 

The order came in about a month ago and the results are awesome.  I can’t wait to show my sister the slide photos that my dad took at her wedding when we are together later this week – I am sure she’s never seen most of them! 

Cheeky smile!

Also, it seems that my penchant for taking random nature shots comes to me honestly; my dad had a keen eye for beauty in the ordinary.  I think it’s incredible how you can learn so much about someone even after they are gone. 



Winter street in Sault Ste. Marie





How awesome is this picture of my parents?



In the same bout of rummaging I found a box of old film reels.  Some were unmarked, but many had my dad’s handwritten descriptions such as, “Dance recital 1979” and “Baby 1974” (that’s me!)  I brought them to a local multimedia company, a true one-man band of media conversion, who agreed to convert them to Blu-Ray for me.  As of today I am still waiting for the film order to be complete, but I recently spoke with Mr. One Man Band and he said that it’s nearly finished and looking good.  I promise to share some of the footage when it’s safely back in my hands. 

In the midst of this walk down memory lane, my dad’s watch stopped working.  My mom gave my dad this watch on December 25, 1972 as both a Christmas gift as well as a “new dad” gift, as it was the date she was due with me (I didn’t make an appearance until January 18^th – poor mom!)  My dad wore the watch every day, in the roughest of work environments, wearing through several watchbands in the 36 years he wore it.  I’ve only had it for 3 years, and it’s given me a run for my money (much like I did to my dear old dad, no doubt!)  I wear it when I need to feel close to my dad, when I’m travelling on the highway (for some reason it makes me feel safe), and sometimes just for fun. 

At first I didn’t worry when the watch stopped, as popping in a new battery has always been the solution.  Unfortunately this was not the case this time.  When the jeweller came out of the back room gingerly holding the watch with a sad look on his face, I knew the news was not good.  I realize the metaphor here is heavy-handed, but I swear that I felt the same sense of dread that one feels getting bad news about a loved one’s medical condition.  He explained that the reason for the watch stopping seemed to be a mystery, but that they might be able to find someone who could fix it.  Otherwise might I consider putting the watch in a shadow box or display case?  I am sure that I don’t have to tell you my answer.  So I signed a waiver allowing the watch to be shipped off-site and held my breath. 

Weeks went by and finally the phone call came – my watch was fixed!  I won’t lie, the repair was not cheap, but it was totally worth it.  The jeweller replaced the glass cover as well and the watch looks sparkly and new.  And it’s nearly 40 years old.  There’s another metaphor in here somewhere, I’m sure of it.