Blurred and out-of-focussed

Our weekend project was to clear up and out these piles of photographs laying about our house. Thinking that it would be a fun family project to do, Kimo took a total of only 10 minutes to sort out on the living room carpet his 30 odd baby photos from the NICU. Then, it dawned on me that these photos accumulated over the years, as in throughout my lifetime, mostly belonged to me, and that I would need a substantial amount of time (though not an entire lifetime) to weed them out, and retain only the most memorable ones.

But how do you go through a mountain of good old photos? Well, my eyes were sorely treated, literally, to not just graying and yellowing photos, but to a host of out-of-focussed and blurry shots that no matter how careful my eyes adjusted themselves for appreciation's sake, I just couldn't imagine wanting to keep them. So, in they went to the reject pile. Yes, those beautiful memories with family and friends, despite being momentous at the time, no longer held up to this current light of day. More old photos of pets, plants, cars, food, strange signs and strangers - all interesting but all quizzical (just what was that thing??) - went into the rubbish bin.

So, what did I retain? Well, the physical appearance of the photos were not at fault to begin with, that is, if we count how different the technology was then and now. In so saying, the photographer (me, mostly) was supremely at fault for not mastering the tool and for haplessly going about snapping this and that. So, while it was easy to retain the clearest and newest-looking of photos, between two somewhat aged and blurry pics, I chose the one that held the most positive of memories. For among those graduation pictures and old boyfriend ones, it was clear which was the winner :) To everything else, I needed only one good shot of our old kitties, Dulcie and Destiny, to remind me of what joy it was to have them in our lives.

Okay, 10 questions, quick! Settle down, so we can begin. Kimo adjusted himself excitedly under the sheets, but it looked to me like a bundle of bones and skin trying to fluff up and bounce around and giggle at the same time. Into the 10 questions we go, more fluffing up of bed covers, bones, skin, and that giggle fit between each question, Kimo asked, "Where is God?". I replied, "God is in my heart. Here feel my heart, can you hear it pounding? God helps my heart to beat, he did that". Oh-oh-oh, said Kimo excitedly, "Let me get my stethoscope!". He had received one for his Christmas present last year. So, Kimo feels my heart with it. "Can you hear my heartbeat?" I said. "Yes", he said. "Feel yours now", Kimo positions the scope to his heart. "What does your heart sound like?". "It sounds like the ocean", he said. "Sounds like drums beating, too", he said again. "Drums and oceans, huh?", I said sleepily. Following this question was the question, "How much do you think of God?". Woah, I didn't expect that. Like a kid hoping to get an easy question in a maths test only to discover that the teacher included a subjective one, my heart did skip a beat as I tried to answer one of the greatest question of mankind to his Creator.