A Portrait of 702

I am no photographer, but I love photographs. I especially love all the ones I have taken and collected of my friends and family. These photos weave together characters, places, and stories that make up some of my favorite memories. 

As you walk into and around my apartment, you will see photographs everywhere - on my bulletin board, in picture frames, hanging on my walls, clipped to magnets on my refrigerator, and throughout my stack of recently received cards and notes. I pride myself on trying to capture all my friends and family members in these photo displays. And honestly, Peter doesn't get that much real estate since I see him everyday. Instead, everyone that's missing from my day-to-day life right now is showcased. When you live alone, you want to bring everyone that's not there into the room with you.

So how, with that said, did I come away from my first weekend jaunt of the year without one photo? I just realized that I didn't pose for one photograph this past weekend. How is that possible when I was with eight of my best friends and wearing my very photogenic tall double-breasted Russian inspired Frye boots?

I'll tell you why.
Because I was with friends who can't be summed up in photos. 

I use my photographs to recall memories - to get back the laughter that was present in a moment or to bring that person or place a little closer to my niche of Naperville. But there are some people and places that are too big for pictures - you just can't capture all that is there in one frame. My lacrosse family is like that - you can't restrain them to a 4x6 or even an 8x10.  (Well, I guess there were a couple moments that needed photos, and Kristen, I promise I won't post the best one.) But for the most part, our memories, laughs, tears, celebrations and hugs are so rich that I don't need photos for them.

We were together this weekend for an unlikely circumstance - an event that I don't think any of us were prepared for. But we were together. And despite the sorrow, we laughed. We told stories in a circle around the fireplace at Kassen's house, creating a symphony of contagious laughter that promises the best stomach workout ever. You can't put the stories that Meredith and Abby tell, the subtle glance or eye roll that Kristen gives me, the awkward comment that Caylan says, the spastic reenactments that Kinnik puts on, the angry eyebrows of Bridget, the hysterical inserted one-liner from Mia, the absolute grace and poise of Kassen, and the questioning looks given to us by our parents and significant others into a picture.

If there was a picture from this weekend it would be like my favorite photo of us that sits on my desk at work. It was taken during Halloween our senior year of college. We had dressed up in Mrs. Simon-made girl scout uniforms and called ourselves Troop 702. None of us is looking at the camera. Each of us is in character - our unique, but complementary characters. I can hear each of us still talking and laughing in that picture and each time I chuckle with the group.

So without a picture, I think this weekend can be summed up in two lines.

In my heart forever ... 702.
In our hearts forever ... Mrs. Delano.

Lo.