Memories and Reminders

I’m going to start this by sharing a few recent experiences, and I’m going to see if you can figure out the connection - why they’re all here.

Over the summer I took my daughter to a concert. It was a group that she loves, but with whom I was only ancillarily familiar. She helped me choose an outfit for the show, and spent the two-plus hour car ride playing their music and telling me all about each of the members of the group, sharing her excitement with me for the show we were about to experience. From the moment we arrived at the venue, I was amazed at… well… everything. It was fun and beautiful to see thousands of people, all ages and genders and backgrounds, coming together to celebrate music together. The outfits, the singalongs, the endless merch-lines. These fans, united together by their love and appreciation of this group, complimented each others’ outfits, talked about how many times they had seen them before, and handed out freebies to anyone and everyone - friendship bracelets, photo cards, homemade buttons - spreading and sharing the love. 

And then the music started. Being surrounded by thousands of people singing, cheering, yelling, screaming, knowing all of the fan-chants… it’s overwhelming. Beautiful, but overwhelming. I sang along where I could, I danced around as much as space provided (and in ways approved by my daughter as not embarrassing…), but mostly I took it all in. And also… I noticed that most of the concertgoers… had their phones out for most of the show. They watched the show in front of them… and also watched it through their screens.

A couple of weeks ago, I attended a birthday party for a friend. It was a milestone birthday and her family hosted a celebration complete with music, food, dancing, friends, family… everything you can think of to celebrate a happy life event. I was so happy to be there celebrating her and seeing her surrounded by so much love. I did so many things that night - I danced, I sang, I hugged people, I chatted, I ate cake… 

The next morning, doom-scrolling as we tend to do, I saw so many photos and videos posted online from the party. And I realized one thing I hadn’t done the night before - taken my phone out of my bag..

This past weekend, my son attended his very first homecoming dance. He’s a high school freshman, at a different school than his sister had attended, so this was all new for all of us. We spent the week making sure he knew what he was going to wear, trying everything on, talking about timing and logistics. I was so excited to see him all dressed up, I asked him if I could take some photos. Reluctantly he consented, but barely smiled for the pictures. I asked him if he still wanted to go, since these looked more like hostage ransom images than pictures of a kid excited to go to his first high school dance. He said of course he wanted to go, he just didn’t want pictures, and asked me not to post them anywhere. Which I understand, and to which I agreed. But I still wished I had some smiling photos of this occasion.

So what in the world do these three very different stories have to do with each other? What tied them together in my head so much so that I felt they all belonged in the same post?

It was actually the last one that pulled all of the pieces together for me. My son, so much like me, not wanting his picture taken, much less shared. And I fully respect that. Because I know where he gets it from.

Me.

But… you see, when it’s me, I justify it. For reasons far beyond the point of this post, I hate having my picture taken. But at that moment, when he rolled his eyes and tried to protest, I immediately recognized my gut reaction as disappointment. And I am fully aware that that disappointment was purely selfish… and hypocritical. I wanted to capture that moment so that I could have it to look back on as he continues to grow and experience new things. I wanted not only the memory, but the reminder. And that realization brought those other two experiences back to me sharply, but with a new perspective.

I’ve had myself convinced for the longest time that it is okay to not take the photos. To not be in them. I fed myself the narrative that not only is that okay, it’s actually better. Because I was living fully in the moment. Immersing myself in the experience completely, rather than just in the confines of a phone screen.

And I don’t believe that I am wholly wrong in that.

But I also… love to watch my daughter’s videos of that concert.

And feel a slight sense of regret that other peoples’ reminders of that party… might not include me.

I didn’t realize that maybe my perspective contained traces of judgment. That my avoidance of photos and videos might actually be selfish rather than just shyness. That there is nothing wrong with creating both memories and reminders of the good times.

I don’t know that this realization will make me suddenly like photos of myself (again, a completely separate issue…), but maybe it will remind me that capturing the moment won’t diminish the experience - that it can be another way of staying present. Maybe next time I’ll remember that being in the reminder is also part of the experience.