We Did It

Jacques Oliver

Well. . . we did it. I'm not sure how it will turn out. I had to leave right after the shoot to get to my mother's house. But we had fun. She is excited and wants to do more. Or wants me to do more. I am worn out with it. After all the work, I was not happy with the "home studio." I learned something, though. I don't think I'd do it again. There were things I wanted to do but didn't. I forgot to do them. But she was game. 

After she was gone, I left the house in a hurry. When I got to my mother's, I realized I'd forgotten to bring back my laptop. After I ate dinner, I told my mother I thought I would drive back and get it.



"Do you want to ride along?"

"Sure."

She hadn't been out in a few days, so this would be her Saturday night thrill. As we passed the Boulevard, I said, "Look. People go out at night. Isn't it crazy? This is going on while you watch Gunsmoke. Do you want to go bar hopping?"

"Sure. Take your mom out. Ha!"

When I got back to my house and pulled into the driveway, I saw that the kitchen door was open.  Wide.  My heart skipped a beat or two.  WTF?  I cautiously approached the house wondering if someone was inside.  I had left all my camera gear lying about.  What would be gone?

But when I walked in, everything was quiet and just as I had left it.  My head was whirring.  I went from room to room.  Everything was the same.  I looked around for strange animals, armadillos or possums or raccoons.  Nothing.  

Had I done this?  I couldn't believe that it was true.  Surely I didn't just drive off with the kitchen door open.  There are old girlfriends who have keys.  No. . . that makes no sense.  

I'm questioning myself.  Is it stress?  Dementia?  

I'm anxious to get back to my house this morning to see if everything is safe.  Maybe I should change the locks on the doors.  

When I get home this morning, I have to pack up lights and stands and cameras to take to the coast for the fire-eater shoot.  Only. . . she says the fire-eating schtick takes a lot of prep, so we probably aren't going to do that.  I told her last night I had no idea what I was coming over to shoot, but if we have fun, I'd be happy.  I was just being nice, though.  I really don't want to go.  It's a long drive and I won't get home until dark.  

But I will buck up.  There is a wind advisory today, though, and it will most likely be raining on my drive home.  I couldn't ask for more.  

I bitch if I don't make pictures, I bitch if I do.  But life with mom will continue for awhile longer.  There is nothing I can do about it.  

I think all I'm really interested in, though, comes through the lens of a camera.  

We'll see.