Where is my paparazzi?

For years I have been tugged at and followed. I have had my own paparazzi of sorts. Some would say I have been stalked. I have heard the word "Mom" "Mama" or "Mother" spoken, screamed or chanted a bazillion times a day; at-least it felt that way. When one child was content, another would be tired, hungry or just plain difficult. I have had the sound of wonderful laughter and excitement from those same children. Sometimes I wondered if silence existed. Now I know. The sounds of my life are changing and even though I hated those frenzied sounds some days, I miss the entirety of raising my kids. Silence, for me, is a more empty and sad sound.

So on Friday Jon and I went to Kansas City. Really, he worked while I went about on my own. I can remember the first time I took five kids to the grocery store. I was freaked out at the prospect. When I went downtown Kansas City completely alone I was more freaked out. I had decided to go to Union Station because my school assignment was to photograph architecture. That morning when I read in the hotel Kansas City guide that Union Station promised high ceilings, light posts and marble floors I set out with determination. Before going in, I sat in my car for a minute talking to my mom on the phone to just get some nerve to go in alone. Good grief, I am 45 years old! I don't mind shopping alone, eating alone or going to a movie alone. It was the idea of being in a place taking pictures alone that was weird to me. I like to lie on the ground to take a picture. Sometimes I look like I am standing on my head to get a really cool angle. The sound of my camera shutter seemed so loud. I wished I had a child there babbling to cover up the sound of my camera. Where was that loud and silly paparazzi of mine? And then the sound came; a group of children on a school field trip filled the large corridor where I was taking pictures. I was invigorated. I knew this noise. I suddenly didn't mind nearly lying on the floor to get a cool shot in the station or fitting different lenses while I sat in the same chair for thirty minutes taking the same picture over and over again. I no longer cared about the quiet and simple movement of my camera's shutter. I felt happy.

I realized, as I looked back on the day with satisfaction at the pictures I had taken, that there are things that I love and need. I need my family. I need those darned kids that I adore and that make me laugh and cry and scream! I need my sweet husband. And I need a camera. I learned that I need to be able to change and grow as my life takes on a different sound. I am a strong and capable woman alone... but I much prefer my paparazzi.