Through the Lens

1

Blowing dust off the box caused billions of particles to shoot out catching in the air. They swirled and floated around me seemingly to twinkle in the light that passed through the dormers of our attic, creating a show that I couldn't help but watch for a few moments before I got back to work.

"Dad, why did you let Mom talk you into this?" I asked absently. Though of course, I knew the answer. My Mom had my Dad wrapped around her finger.

Laughing, he said, "Jessa, I promised your mother for years that I would clean this place up."

The joke, however, was on me, because here I was up here with him. Granted it was cool despite the summer heat, but it was still a Saturday. And while Mom was at her bistro, no doubt driving the staff crazy, my life held no plans. Jenna, technically my identical twin, although we don't look much alike, was off at cheerleading camp. And my best friend Madison was off on a date with her new boyfriend, my other best friend Bradley. Therefore I was relegated to chores like this with nothing better to do.

Opening the box in front of me, I took out what looked like giant CDs. Sliding one out of its slip cover, I blew more dust off its black vinyl-like surface. "Dad, what are these?" I asked with a frown on my face. All the dust had me wrinkling my nose from a threatening sneeze. Just when he spoke, however I did, in fact, sneeze.

"Gesundheit," my Dad said.

"Thanks," I said. "Now what did you call them?" I asked because I hadn't heard over the noise I made.

"Records, albums, vinyls," he said, exasperatedly.

Giggling, I thought about how my Dad was forever explaining the difference of his world "back in the day" and ours now. Not saying anything, I put the record back in its place and moved to open another box. This time, I pulled out a clear plastic box that held a cassette. The picture that showed through the top had four guys with the words Mötley Crüe underneath it. So I knew it what it was, but I couldn't help again teasing my dad about it.

"Dad, what about this?" I asked.

Lifting his head from his perch on the side of the other dormer, he pushed a hand through what my Mom liked to call his "Clark Kent" style hair, referring to Superman's secret identity. "Those are cassettes," he said. "I'll have you know those are classics and can never be replaced."

Mumbling more to myself with raised eyebrows, I said, "Sure, sure, sure. Whatever you say, Dad."

I was about to take a break, the novelty of this chore wearing off when I saw the weathered brown box sitting abandoned on a stool. This box would change my life forever. A lot of people claim to know the moment when their life changed, but I was sure. Because lifting the camera out of the box had introduced me to the very thing that would influenced the actions that led me here. If only I had been aware that the very strap of that 35mm SLR camera was the noose that was now killing me at this very moment, maybe I would have put it back down. Maybe I'd dropped it instead of cradling it preciously in my fingers.

Easily, I sank back into the flashback and out of my predicament. "Wow," I said a little loudly.

But I heard my father move. He walked over to me and lovingly touched the camera. "Ah, this brings back memories," he said, looking like he was reliving his own slice of the past. "This camera is how I met your mother."

Now that was a story I wanted to hear. My Mom was an older version of my sister. She had been head cheerleader in high school. She was voted most popular. She was a stunning beauty. She had been in a different world from my Dad. My geeky father was handsome, I guess, but he hid behind his spectacles. Still his bright blue eyes shown through. And when he smiled, little dimples appeared giving a peak into how handsome was. But then again Dad was a CPA not some model. And even though I found him attractive and he would forever be my hero, I knew people thought that Mom was out of his league.