Sunday, June 10, 2012

These Boots Won't Walk

I took a little alone time and went down to this open-air chapel that is surrounded by trees and water. There is always a nice breeze blowing and there is a fine-sounding wind chime hanging from the rafters. It is a peaceful place to be. There is a small bridge that crosses over the water.

I didn't actually go alone. I brought my son's first and last pair of boots with me. The little boots were up high on the closet shelf. My husband had to get them for me. Holding them again brought back so many memories for both of us.
 
I wanted to get a photograph of them on the bridge with it looking like the boots were headed off the bridge into eternity. For a number of reasons, things didn't quite work out that way but I got several shots that pleased me.

Then I brought them inside the chapel and set them up as if someone were in them sitting on the pew. You can see the pond and the trees beyond the pew. It is all wide open on four sides. It is a beautiful and simple little building.

Later I set them up at one of the edges of the chapel, looking out toward another side of the lake. I took several other photos of the boots that were okay. I will certainly treasure them. I also took some of the view of the water and of the building. Maybe those will show up on another day.

I spent time just sitting, listening to the chimes and feeling the breeze blow across my face. I miss my boy something fierce. I carry that always inside me.

Sometimes people don't know, especially if I keep smiling and don't say anything. It's one of my pet peeves, something I try always to keep in mind as I deal with people during the day.

Try to always be aware that the person you are dealing with might have greater pains and problems than what they are showing on their face.

13 comments:

  1. I really like the last picture with the thought as expressed, Annie; and am "with you" in what you did with the boots. I have nothing left of my father other than a few pictures, having given his guitar to a cousin rather than have it neglected while I was moving around in the service, having sold his shotgun, needing money in those early years of my marriage. That which yet "connects" us on the inside, of course, can not be lost; but how good to yet own a few items which help us step into the memories...

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    1. I am the type who always wants some physical something by which to remember the departed, Jim. Memories are good but I'm sorry you don't also have those things of your father's.

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  2. These are precious, but not in the saccharine sense of the word...in that these photos speak the great, beautiful, holy place of love in you. Beautifully done.

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    1. Thank you, Beth. I wish I'd taken more time in my writing about the experience. It was so much richer than what I have written here. This place is a little open air chapel and it is so peaceful there.

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    1. Thank you, Denise, not only for reading and commenting here, but for being a flesh and blood, face to face listening ear when the grief gets heavy.

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    2. I always feel I'm not doing anything, much less enough. But I will be an ear, a shoulder, a hand... any ol' body part you can use.

      <3

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  4. I really like the third one. It's sort of a feeling of looking out at the next thing, and thinking about it before stepping off into it.

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    1. You've expressed what I really wanted to evoke with the boots on the bridge photo! I think the third photo has ended up expressing what I wanted to express on the bridge. Serendipitously it worked out and I got what I wanted in the photo.

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  5. Love the tree bark edit. Nicely done

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  6. Thank you for this. It's so true. Just because I/we don't wear our pain on the outside doesn't mean it's not there. Thank you again.

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Don't just sit there staring, say something!