Dear Reader,
It's my pleasure to share another Honorable Mention column from the 2022 Write a DearReader Contest. Today's piece was written by Deanna Hahn. Thank you for your entry, Deanna…
I am the guardian of an accidental time capsule. I should be perfectly honest though; it is not the traditional version. There isn’t a carefully decorated box, clearly labeled and fondly kept on an organized shelf of mementos. It wasn’t buried in our back yard with specific instructions to open in a future year. My time capsule is just one simple thing. A roll of undeveloped film.
This little black Kodak tube has been in my possession for years. It has rattled around in boxes with stickers and note paper. Photo corners were stuck to it, a clear sign that the pictures inside were hoping to be set free. I would lose it, find it, wonder about it, then absentmindedly place it in another random spot.
You might ask what kept me from immediately developing this roll of film. I confess that I am, at best, a haphazard memory keeper. Photos from years past are arranged by box, not by album. Any photos that actually made it into a self-stick album are now half stuck, half unstuck to the pages. I frequently resolve to take them out of their jumbled misery and give them the organization they deserve. But like all good resolutions, I typically shuffle that commitment away to the next year.
Other time capsules fill the nooks and crannies of our house. In a closet, a box is stuffed with elementary school memories. High school yearbooks are lined up in another container. Folders on my desk have stories written as long ago as the first grade. I rarely have the time to unearth these treasures, so they sit waiting for me, holding bits of the person that created the one that sits here today. And I’ll share a secret. Midlife me, every so often, wonders what it would be like to have a sit-down chat with the young version of me. The vaguely familiar contents of each box might give me a bit of the time travel I need to make that happen.
This roll of film is a bit different though. Unlike the boxes, the contents are completely unknown to me. Questions bump around in my brain Will these photos make me happy? Or sad? Will I have blurry pictures I wish were clear? Clear pictures of a time when I have better hair and less tummy bulge? My sentimental self is imagining the smiles of my parents, forgotten family gatherings and the faces of friends from long ago. I wonder how I will juggle all of these unexpected memories. And even more so, I fear the imaginary photos conjured in my mind are better pictures of the past than what would be developed from that film.
If I do decide to hand my film to complete strangers to develop, I’d need to do some research. Sadly, the convenience of a one-hour drive by photo booth in the middle of a parking lot no longer exists. I suppose Google would be happy to provide some options, but that seems risky. My local drugstore might take it, they seem like reliable people. If I entrust it to anyone, I should probably enclose a letter explaining the significance carried within this roll of film.
Dear Trusted Film Developer,
I have been the keeper of this roll of film for many years. Please handle it with care. I’m confident you understand the importance of this mission.
All my best,
Deanna
Update: My letter has been printed on stationary rimmed in flowers and I’ve carefully rolled it around my film. A respectably sturdy shoe box has been repurposed and now holds my pet rock, my mood ring and a newspaper dated August 16th, 2022. The film is also tucked safely inside the box, memories included. My accidental time capsule has become an intentional one.
– Deanna Hahn, Honorable Mention, 2022 Write a DearReader Contest
Thanks for reading with me. It's so good to read with friends.
Suzanne Beecher
Suzanne@DearReader.com
* This month's Penguin Classics is The Custom of the Country by Edith Wharton. I have a copy of the book to share with a lucky reader, so start reading and enter for your chance to win
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