A week on the Gulf  in 2014 with great friends, followed by four days with my sister and brother-in-law prompted me to think about what our parents pass down to us.

It started as a conversation during our ocean side happy hour ritual at 4 each day from my sister who reminded me, steadfastly, that she has Momma’s legs.  This has been on ongoing battle since I was a child.  I inherited Daddy’s legs, white, chunky and as my husband and brother-in-law said  “that of a linebacker”.  My sister has my Momma’s tanned, sleek legs and olive complexion.  Many battles have been ensued over this throughout the years and more so since they have both passed.   It made me think, even more so, of what we take with us every day that came before us.

For me, I have my Daddy’s love of photography etched into every grain of my soul.  I am never without a camera, wanting so much to document every facet of life and each memory made whenever and wherever this may be.  I have file after file of memories from friends, family, and places.  Each one opens up a plethora of heartfelt souvenirs, some which sooth my soul, some which take me back to places that grind at my heart, others that make me laugh out loud.  There are days when opening a file opens a tundra of stirrings so deep that I am taken back to that moment in a single shot.

I feel blessed by this.

I feel free.

I feel there is so much of life in one single lens opening, that simply through a shuttered moment,  I am there again.

My daddy bought his first camera in Venice, Italy while stationed there with the United States Navy.  He gave that camera to me seven years ago and I cherish the fact he entrusted me with something so valuable.  It may not be something of monetary significance (although it might and I could never part with it), but the start of what had him document our lives from stills to 9mm to VHS to CD over his years.

When Momma passed he gave each of us three kids a 3 volume CD that ranged from 1952 until 2006.  It brings me back to memories of sitting in our family living room and watching our family movies on the wall. (One of two walls without paneling that had seating!)  Nothing is sweeter in my mind and nothing is as priceless as listening to the click, click, click of that movie reel.  It is a childhood memory and sound that warms my being and makes me who am I today….a bit of the past blended into the person I have become.

Sitting at the beach this past week made me realize I am my father’s child, linebacker legs, fair skin and all.  I have my momma’s love for writing and quick wit. Kim has Momma’s coloring, ageless looks and of course, those legs!   We all three kids got Daddy’s “never met a stranger” demeanor.

We are and always will be their children. We are and always will be a reflection of them both…especially through the lens of my camera as I watched the rays shoot from the clouds and were reminded they are still with us.

What a blessing!