A few weeks ago, I dropped my phone one too many times. The screen cracked, but it is still useable with the help of a protector screen, and the camera lens got a very large hole in it. It is still useable, too, but the photos I take with it are washed out and often striped with light. Things sometimes look like they’re underwater in a sunlit stream. Pretty, but not always want I want.
So, I’ve taken to pressing the “reverse” or “selfie” button and then holding the phone so the screen faces the subject. I aim and click the button the best that I can while trying not to drop my phone. Most of the photos do not turn out. Some do. The other day, Bodie was exploring his dad’s flower garden and I decided to try to take some photos. Some of them turned out rather nicely.
And, then, after my mini-photo shoot was done, I swiped through to find my favorites and was surprised to have caught my own image.
They are faded, a bit blurry. The subject wears no makeup, has not washed her hair. The camera was not meant to capture her, but it did. And I find the woman in these photos—me, a mother looking at her child without knowing that I or anyone else would ever see my face in this moment—beautiful. In these images, I get a glimpse of how I appear to my son when there are no cameras or phones o mirrors to display my likeness to myself. There is no modicum of performance or self-awareness or preemptive gratitude that these memories will be preserved. There is simply my unexpecting face reflecting the awe and the easy joy in and deep love I feel for my son.
This accidental self-portrait makes me think of the small, beautiful moments in my mothering that nobody else gets to see. The way I look at my son when no one is watching but him shows me what I know deep down: that my boy is lucky to have me just like the way I am beyond lucky to have him. This is something that mothers often need to be reminded of. I am so glad the broken camera on my phone gave me the gift of these photos. The mother in them is uncentered in the composition of the photo, but completely centered in her love for her child. In these photos, I get to see my own love shine out of me. And not only that: I see in my eyes the way my mother and father and grandparents looked at me, and I feel how lucky I am to pass on such love.
Pour out your love. The ones who receive the gift of you will see you shine, and it, in turn, will shine out of them.
With love from my kitchen table,
Kaia
I love this Kaia! Your beautiful photos of. Bodie are wonderful. And, those of you are what I see each time you look at Bodie. He is lucky to have you as his Mom!
How beautiful!!