Dave and I have taken the kind of self-portraits that make "real" photographers cringe. The kind where you hold out your arms and hope for the best. We take them everywhere: home, Ohio, London, sporting events, on trains, in a hotel room. Everywhere. Erika made it her goal to get a photo of us for Mom's calendar that wasn't a photo like this. She got it, and it was very nice . . . but I still like the kind where we mush our cheeks close together, smile, and still hope for the best.
The one on the left was taken when we were 21. I had thrown out my back for the first time, but I had a project due for a sociology course that detailed a historic place that was in need of help. My choice was a beautiful covered bridge in Oxford, but there was no way that I could traverse the fence and snap a few photos. Dave volunteered to get up early (he was working third shift at a hotel doing their books) and do it for me. When he got back, we had left over film and started taking photos of anything to get the film used up. This is my favorite shot of the day . . . because it's us. We were dirt poor with no clue how we were going to provide for our kids. The Girls had a Medicaid card for their insurance, and we had food stamps and WIC. I'm pretty sure that we were getting by on a wing and a prayer . . . plus a lot of help from our parents when it came to the Girls since I was in my last year as a college student.
Fast forward 20 years. Life has a funny way of working out for you. The Girls are the ones in college now. Dave is still in the hotel business but in a vastly different capacity. Me? I haven't thought about that bridge in Ohio in ages. But I have a beautiful print of it in our basement, one that Dave bought for more money than he had a right to, when we were dirt poor . . . all because I liked it.
I grabbed him on his way to work and asked for one quick photo, for the Now portion. Love you, Dave!