We came to Mammoth right after Elijah died.
Now, we come here every year at this time.
We got lucky this year and the quickest route, Hwy 120 through Yosemite (Tioga Rd) opened on the day we left.
When we stopped en route and put the little guy down on a huge granite dome in Yosemite, he went nuts. He was spinning in circles, running up the dome, hollering, "WOOT! DAT!! DihdihDATDAT! WOOT!"
Supergirl alternated between circling around him like a mama hawk and her own bursts of spastic joy.
I responded by taking literally hundreds of pictures and video clips on my beloved elph, with the backdrop of Yosemite's high country and perfectly blue skies.
The next night we went to the hot tub by the pool at the foot of the ski slope and took more great photos of the kids at high altitude.
The next morning was mothers day and we realized that the camera had not made it back to the room with us.
Reports were filed.
Signs were posted (please - keep the camera - just return my memory cards with my family pictures on them!).
The camera was stolen.
Fuck the camera.
My babies pictures were stolen.
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3 comments:
My husaband left our camera on top of the car. The memory stick was full, nearly 200 pictures. Now as we enter spring again I find myself redoing things we did last year and realizing that I don't have those pictures all over again. It's like getting punched in the stomach over and over again with no warning at all.
Whomever has my camera with the perfect pictures of my beautiful blonde baby going for his first siwm damn you you didn't even try to give them back to me.
Not only is it terrible that someone stole your camera (I mean come ON, you learn in KINDERGARTEN not to steal), but that they didn't even stop to consider what might be on it. I'm so sorry you don't have those photos, but it sounds like the memories will be with you forever.
Sh!t. I'm sorry that happened.
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