While there's still time -- memories for my mom
The image on the big-screen TV is black and white and a little herky-jerky. My daughter chirps, in 3-year-old delight, "This is my classroom!" And she leads us on a tour of the artwork and each tiny desk in her preschool world.
The videotapes are lined up on the floor of my bedroom, a display of changing technology in the last 24 years. I bought my first video camera at a garage sale in 1982. It was heavy and captured images only in black and white and silvery gray.
Then came a color recorder; the VHS tapes form a line on the floor: "Kindergarten Christmas pageant." "Dance Recital, 1989." "Summer School Play 1986."
After that is a mess of tapes in different formats, taken by friends or former sweethearts after my camera was broken beyond repair, all recording important moments in my daughter's life.