Thursday, April 3, 2003    


Scrapbooking as Evidence

By:Maria (aka Football Widow)

In high school I was a debater. You know, one of those studious-types who spend their weekends lugging around fileboxes full of "evidence." The ability to use that information is crucial in a debate, but that part was never my specialty. My emphasis was on the preparation - the writing and gathering. And my free time was spent gathering more. Once I had the information, I would play with it. I would highlight the important parts, cutting and pasting them - organizing them in the best possible manner.

Those high school debate days are gone, but I still find myself gathering "evidence." Now my evidence documents life - moments that I cherish. My free time is spent gathering and organizing photos and memorabilia. I still play with those same fileboxes, except now they are full of cardstock, patterned paper, and stickers. And once again my definition of a fun Friday night involves lugging around those boxes.

Scrapbooking allows me to record time. It moves so fast. Just yesterday I was that high school girl, and now I'm a mom with a house full of children. They are the most amazing miracles. But as my oldest turns nine, I am reminded of all the moments that have passed. Although I look forward to the excitement that lies ahead, there are so many memories that I miss I miss his baby-grin overflowing with pure joy. I miss watching him turn the pages of my cookbook before he was even old enough to roll over. I miss watching him pretend to take a bath in a laundry basket. And there was the first time he put on his jacket by himself.. It was so cute; he put it on backwards. I know that because I checked. I found that memory documented in his scrapbook.

Those moments are so important to me and I have proof that they happened. My scrapbooks validate my silly sentiments and refresh my memory. They document my loves and my priorities. In essence, my scrapbooks offer evidence of who I am.

Tomorrow at dMarie Daily: I'm losing my mind (and my memory), by JLA

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