take a picture

We have been taking a lot of pictures since we got to Sweden, even before. In the age of digital cameras and images I think it's a lot easier to snap pictures. The down side is figuring out how to capture them for a good old put-on-the-shelf photo album. One needs to buy their own quality picture printer and lots of expensive paper and ink cartridges to go with or find a place that can print them professionally and cheaply. We had pretty good luck with a place in Cincinnati for the latter. We may have to employ them again someday.

The reason for the pictures is to share, but more over to remember. For us to remember. I was reminded of this when looking at Margaret's online family photo album. http://jimbeth.blogspot.com/ It's filled with loved ones and memories, some fading now and loved ones no longer standing among us. My Uncle Arch just passed away about a month ago after a second bout with cancer. He was a good man, no longer with us.

Seems like life gets faster every year, especially with the distraction and investment into growing kids. There is going to be a time when we have time to remember. We listen to a song every once in a while by the group Filter called 'Take a Picture.' The song is pretty good but I can't vouch for any of their other stuff. I'll spare the details, but the chorus of 'Take a picture' has a repeating line that resonates: 'Could you take my picture? Cuz I won't remember.'

I am hoping to remember the details of our chronicles in Sweden but I can't guarantee it. I hope to remember the sound of the boys' laughter while they run through mormors house, or the sound of their high pitched voices in the dark Swedish mornings when they wake, before they become scraggly teenagers some day. I don't want them to grow up too fast and I don't want to leave them too soon but there will be a time. I don't want to forget the times when they thought their Dad had mythical powers - able to fix anything broken, run faster than the wind, taller than a giant, able to figure things out and protect them from danger.

I don't want us to forget the smell or love of mormors pancake night with homemade jellies from fruit grown right here at the house. Or the quiet and peacefulness of Stavsnäs and the loudest sound being our own thoughts. Or the throng of noise and excitement when all the Swedish cousins are together, when every kid speaks Swedish including Sam and Stavsnäs is not such a peaceful place.

I don't want us to forget this window when all the Swedish sibs were in kid raising mode at the same time on the same continent and both Swedish grandparents were able to be proud of them.
There will be a time when we want to remember.

Here's to remembering.