Aerial photography is my grandpa’s specialty. It’s his life, really. He made model airplanes and took photographs for his career. He does it as a hobby after retirement. He did it in service for his church. It’s really who my grandpa is.
Because of this, he has gained a very large collection of photographs. I was sitting with my grandparents today as they sifted through them. Their goals was to cut down on a lot of them, and my grandma is much more willing to give up on some than my grandpa, but sometimes they both hold to them.
They look at a picture and say, “We ate lunch here. This is where we saw coyotes jumping up and eating pears off a tree. There was a garden here. We ate prickly pear cactus.”
One thing I am impressed with is that my grandma has accompanied my grandfather on a great many trips. She was there while he held the controller and flew the airplanes around, snapping pictures of the ground.
So, even though aerial photography is my grandpa’s thing, it has also become their thing. Their life is contained in that one moment when the airplane flies around, the sun beats down on both of them, and they stand out in the middle of nowhere taking pictures of something that everyone has already forgotten. They are together.
And when they look through those photographs, they can remember.