Flashback

A few days ago, I was forced to watch a home video from 1992. I was 10 years old. I was afraid to watch it for numerous reasons, like my big bangs, my big glasses, my big oversized jeans which I rolled at the bottoms. I also knew that my grandma and grandpa would be in it. They are both passed away now and I knew it would be emotional to watch. So I prepared myself and held off watching it for a couple hours. It was sort of like preparing to watch The Notebook, only on a much more difficult level.
When I finally sat down and pressed play, the first image to pop up on the screen was my grandma, in the kitchen cooking. (I still miss her cooking) We all called her Oma. Surprisingly, I found myself smiling. It made me happy to be able to see her. I had prepared myself well.
Next scene, outside. My Papa, walking with my aunt, just talking about normal everyday stuff. My cousin was sort of just following everyone around, taping through out the day. It was Easter. After awhile everyone seemed to forget about the camera. Made for a pretty interesting tape. Anyway, Papa and my aunt were in the garage and I'm not sure what they were talking about, but the next thing I hear, clear as day:
"I just put tires on the sonofabitch last year," in my grandpa's gruff old man voice.
I laughed. I was happy to hear his voice.
No tears.
So far, so good.
Then, out of no where, something I didn't prepare for.
My good old Dinga, my Fuzzy Dog. Tippy was her official name. She was a German Shepard mix my family had for 17 years. There she was on the screen. Then, her partner in crime, a Toy Rat Terrier we had for 18 years, Sassy. I hadn't even thought about them being on the tape. The tears welled up.
Then the camera showed Sassy on Oma's lap, and Oma saying "Get off me, go home where you belong" and then letting her stay right where she was. I cried and laughed at the same time remembering how she pretended to hate always having Sassy around, but secretly liked her. (I lived next door to my grandparents out in the country, so our dogs sort of lived in both houses) Then there was Ginger, my Papa's dog. He picked her out from the shelter because she was the ugliest one there and he knew no one else would bring her home. She outlived my grandpa and became my grandma's best friend. I remember sitting on the floor with my arm around her every morning before school.
It all became too much. I wondered for a second why I was bawling over dead dogs and not my dead grandparents, then realized it wasn't just the dogs. It was my memories, my life, 15 years ago, caught on tape. It was rushing through me and pouring out of my eyes.
One of the last scenes was my other grandma, who is still alive today, walking over from her house to celebrate with us. "Happy Easter!" she said with a smile. She stood up straight, needed no help walking, and remembered all our names.
Now, she is delusional and in pain constantly. She asks the same questions over and over. She doesn't remember much, except for the past. At least she still remembers my name.
Go out there and buy a video camera if you don't have one. Record the ones you love. This tape was the best, and worst, thing I've ever seen.