it's been a year and a half since my mother passed away, and i still haven't the courage to go through her things. the only item i have of hers, is her favorite beautiful pearl ring she gave me shortly before she left. the one she wore whenever she was missing her own mother, who had done the same.

but recently i began to recall her camera, the one always hanging around her neck when i was young. the camera that came to every birthday, every holiday celebration, every vacation. i remember my fascination with looking down into the view finder, the fun film-winder on the side, the groovy case it sat in. suddenly it was all i could think about.

my father located the modest yashica 44, and brought it to me a few days ago. when he walked through the door with it dangling from his wrist, it profoundly felt as if he had entered the room with my mother.

i suddenly have a little skip in my step, as i daydream about future adventures with my mother's camera. and tonight, every time i looked through that view finder, she reminded me she'd be coming along too.