Today again in Stockholm Sweeden. It was, cold on that trip. We had just spent considerable time in the tropics. You adjust to being hot all the time. Coming back to Northern Europe, we were cold. Thick sweaters and cold. We wandered from Summer in the tropics to winter In Europe. We had been given that year for Christmas Kodak Instamatic cameras. My pictures of Sweeden are scanned as well, but nothing like dad’s pictures. The Kodak was a small handheld starter camera designed for small hands. The lighting was critical for that camera. As in if the lighting was perfect the picture turned out in a scary format of nearly dark, pictures that became an expanse of gray.
Dad was using his Second Pentax camera. The first one, and his senses had been stolen on a trip when we were in Thailand. Dad got a new camera and new lenses. I still have that SLR. The thing I remember now is that I don’t remember dad having or not having a camera with him. He did I know, but it slid from my open memory to the closed memory. Open memory is where an object has permanence. You see the object, and it is clearly in your memory. Closed memory is where the evidence shows you that it was there, but you don’t recall it being there. Most of the time that was my childhood my memory of dad and his cameras is closed. They were there, the cars, we have the pictures.
But I don’t remember dad taking the pictures. I remember my mother-in-law taking pictures. It was one of the funniest moments of my wedding to my wife, as my mother-in-law tried to take a picture of us. We were not helping her. I remember my mother-in-law holding a camera. But I didn’t grow up with her taking pictures. Dad took pictures all the time. In fairness, not as many as we take now in the digital age. My daughter and I managed to take 4000 pictures on our ten day trip to Hawaii. We decided, she and I, that we would beat that on our ten day trip to Europe. We ended up going from 400 pictures per day in Hawaii to more than 600 per day in Europe. Lots and lots of pictures!