Listen To The Memories

I photograph my mother a lot. She's complicated and curious and one of the toughest-most-infuriating people I know. If you have someone like that in your life, take their photo. A lot. Listen to their memories.

In this photo she's trying to remember the dates my father helped weld up the bell in the background. She catches a memory and recalls how he refused to wear the uniform at the decommissioning ceremony marking the end of the manned Coast Guard station on Manana. Didn't like the issued shorts. My father never wore shorts. Then she remembers us as a family of four, standing on the hill and launching our toy planes into the wind. Watching them soar over the brush and glide into the graveyard.

Listen to their stories even if they spiral sideways and you never hear the ending of the first.