It's Monday, and it's raining. Oldest Boy had a hard time getting up this morning so I sang The Carpenter's song to him. Funny, it didn't help.
Chris spent time over the weekend transferring old Hi8 tapes to our computer. [We recently converted to Macs and the easy, intuitive part hasn't kicked in yet for me. I use this large-screened, high-powered computer like a $500 PC. I don't know what I'm doing.] The tapes transferred in real time and were displayed on the computer screen during the process. We all enjoyed checking out what was playing throughout the weekend. Oldest Boy couldn't take his eyes off himself.
Watching footage from 9-12 years ago left Chris and me both feeling... unique. Not good and not bad. It's intense. I enjoy watching video of recent events, but the emotions that accompany viewing life when significant time has passed - are heavy.
I saw my grandfather, who's now deceased. And my grandmother, who's physically and cognitively deteriorated. It was almost too much. Too much feeling. I wanted to jump into the computer - to go back - and at the same time, look away.
Watching the births (not literally - I was opposed to the actual birth being filmed) of Oldest and Middle Boy left me stirred. Seeing glimpses of our life 10 years ago was conflicting. The scenes captured were happy and cute, but I remember the moments when I was less patient, uptight about unimportant things, and I want the opportunity to right those. I know Mother and Mamaw would both say, "Honey, I understand."
I just spoke with Em on the phone. (She's a dear fleshly friend who is NOT jealous of my bloggy friends - is that better Em?) Her father passed away much too young a few years ago. She said it's hard to watch video of her dad, but she finds comfort in it too. We concluded that maybe the more we view images, the confusing, intense emotions will soften. I don't know...
If I knew how to pull a few seconds of the transferred data in iMovie to imbed in my post, I would. If it wasn't a rainy Monday, I bet I could figure it out.
We're all feeling a little melancholy today. Dumb Carpenters.
