white knuckles

sunrise 12-001

Here is a story about

passion

and

guilt

and

confessions

and scuba divers.

I had breakfast yesterday with my high school friends, I took with me, a few of my old photo albums.

As we looked over the pictures from our high school days some thirty years ago, we reminisced about adventures past.  A few photos were from our senior class trip to a local amusement park.  My friend asked if I remembered that trip and “that big event” that took place during that trip.  Yes, I remembered.  Oh how I thought at that time. that my life was flashing before my eyes and that I was going to be in so much trouble with my parents when they found out about it.

My mother was the queen of guilt.  I swear she could make me feel so guilty with just a few words, I would confess to sins that I hadn’t even considered committing. She should have been a professional interrogator.

ship at bay-001

Anyway back to the story.  My parents gave to me, as an early graduation gift a camera.  It was a big deal back then and I was quite proud of it. I got all the customary speeches about being responsible and taking care of the camera, blah blah blah.  When the senior class trip rolled around and I wanted to take the camera along, I got another round of lectures about being responsible and not being reckless with the camera and whatever I did, don’t lose it.

Well, I didn’t lose it.

Exactly.

Dad – if you are reading this, you have gotten to the confession part of the story.

There we were my buddies and I at the amusement park messing around as high school kids do and there was some sort of body of water nearby.  I can no longer remember all the details, I’m sure I’ve blocked it out due to my overwhelming guilt – thanks mom.

Anyway the camera slipped out of my hand into the pond/lake whatever it was.

SPLASH!

Out of sight.

Gone.

We all just stood there in silence and utter disbelief. At some point I became aware of my hysterical screaming/crying yelling jumping up and down, bringing the entire or what seemed at the time, the entire amusement park to a stand still.  The park authorities took pity on me and put together a team of scuba divers that retrieved the camera.

The camera was ruined.

heron

A friend that had their own black room developed those pictures that could be salvaged, and those were the ones we reminisced over yesterday.

I was beside myself, and felt I couldn’t face telling my parents about how irresponsible I had been.  I cried myself to sleep that night and I’m sure many more.

I came up with the idea to empty my piggy bank of all the funds I had saved from birthdays and Christmases past, and all the graduation money I had received.  I believe I may have borrowed money from my sister too, sorry if I never paid you back,sis. I took that money I had been saving for years and went out and purchased the same camera so I wouldn’t have to confess to my parents.

piggy bank-001

Some time later, when something came up that I wanted to buy, my mother suggested that I should use the funds from my piggy bank.  When I had to explain to her I didn’t have any money saved, I again got the lecture about being so irresponsible with my money and how could I have blown all that cash.

Yep, there’s that guilt again.

driftwood-001

I’ve kept that secret all these years, and I’ve kept my passion for taking photos too.

If you see me with white knuckles while holding my camera you now know that it is a throw back to this experience. If there is a body of water nearby I should most likely head in the other direction.  Which is hard, because I am drawn to water and I would rather be in, on or near water than just about any other place and with my camera in hand.

Until next time,

Cheers!

Kim

14 thoughts on “white knuckles

  1. Your dad is going to love this story. I know I did! Reminds me of one of my own that I too confessed to many years later.

  2. What a great story…things seem so huge when you’re younger! isnt’ it funny how vividly you remember how horrified you felt? (I have countless similar stories of mortification ;)) Now with my own kids I see those “white knuckles” and wide eyes all too often! Love the new banner, btw!

    • I actually think remembering this event is kind of funny and I am thankful that my parents taught me about having a conscious. I was horrified at the time that is for sure. Glad you like the new look, I may change it again soon. xok

  3. Oh, wow, you touched a nerve! Honestly, I can’t even speak to my mother anymore~it just got to be too much all the time. Lucky for me she moved across the country and now my dad and I get to hang out. Much better.
    My heart goes out to you. What a painful memory. i hope how that it is “out” it will stop hurting, and you will be able to embrace both camera and water and joy again, without the terrible shadow of (undeserved!) guilt hanging over you.

    • Actually – this really wasn’t a painful memory, but I’m sorry to hear it touched a nerve with you and your relationship with your mom. I don’t have any ill feelings about this towards my mom at all. And I think I was rather resourceful making the decision to spend my own money, since it was my mistake. Too bad my other mistakes couldn’t have been fixed that easily! xok

  4. You poor thing! I started to feel guilty just reading this story, isn’t it terrible how we are still afraid of our parents reactions as adults? I recently told my mum about the time when as a teenager the grandmother clock ticking used to keep me awake. So I kept stopping it. I noticed one day the clock wasn’t there so I asked where was it. Mum said I’ve taken it to be fixed as it kept stopping. I said nothing. When I told her this story, she didn’t laugh as I expected her to, just said hmmm.!

    • Your clock story cracks me up! Why? I have a family member that can’t stand to hear clocks ticking. I collect clocks, the louder the better. I am respectful and stop them when he comes to visit. Most of the time. HA!

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