When my dad passed away in December 2005, a close family friend took up a position as pallbearer for his funeral, just as he did when my mom passed away in 1992. Outside the church, he said “I think I got the heavy corner…the one where his heart is.” I still get choked up just thinking about it. It’s probably the sweetest and most poignant thing anyone said.
A few days before Christmas this year, a camera body arrived in the mail, a gift from my sweetie to me. I’ve already got a bunch of lenses to use with the body, and I’ve been keeping them in an aluminum hard-case, all of which I “inherited” from my dad. When I first opened this case, while cleaning up his house in that fateful December, I remember bursting out crying to see a couple of combs and a little bottle of cologne. You see, this was the camera case that he had recently been taking with him while shooting weddings for my brother’s photography business.
It’s a little sad to say, but at the time, my brother and I were both a little concerned about having Dad shoot weddings. It was becoming clear that, with age, Dad’s eyes weren’t doing him any favors. Most of his candid photos were completely out of focus, and his “artsy” shots often didn’t seem to have any rhyme or reason to them. This, compared to the tack-sharpness of his photos throughout our younger lives, and the creativity he had always exhibited.
But, all the same, it was clear that my dad really perked up when he had a gig to do for my brother. I’m not sure he’d have been able to put it into words, but it made him feel needed, important, special. And he was really all about other people, so he was just the perfect person to interact with a family on their wedding day. It was all about them, and he knew it, and he made it clear he knew it.
So, my camera arrives. It’s a good bit smaller than the older film camera I was using, and I’ve got to do a little shuffling of lenses to make sure they’re all protected in the case. I began customizing the foam in the main (bottom) portion of the case, and I noticed that the foam in the top of the case was kinda bulging a bit. I pulled it down, and out pops a big ZipLoc bag containing a manila folder full of papers…
Now, a little explanation for why this would make my heart skip a beat:
My dad didn’t leave a will, or at least we never found one. The assumption was, if he had one, he likely hid it from my stepmonster. He didn’t like her. Anyway, when a hidden folder of papers falls out of your dead father’s camera case, you sit up and take notice.
I opened the folder, and out popped one paper program after another, from every wedding he ever shot for my brother. Little snippets of happy days from people he probably only ever met once or twice. Commemorative napkins. Invitations with directions and maps on the back. Hand-written notes from a bride or groom, thanking him for being so kind, or maybe just directions on what photos they’d like him to take. These things, these days, these events, and these people…meant enough to him that he wanted to collect some mementos that he could maybe look back upon with a smile someday.
And the heavy corner was indeed where his heart was.
