Two days ago the unthinkable happened.
I lost 4 months of photos. Everything from July 30th of this year on. Which means the trips to California, Vermont & St. Louis, not to mention our day at Coney Island and my recent jaunt to Brooklyn to photograph the Statue of Liberty & lower Manhattan at sunset.
The specifics are long and boring, but basically a software glitch combined with a backup drive flaw conspired to forever delete over 600 photos.
I now have online backup, a new backup drive and a commitment to immediately print any photos I can’t do without, but none of that helps with those images that disappeared with the click of a button.
My husband and kids, after commiserating and expressing their sympathy, pointed out that it could have been worse; like it could have been baby pictures of the kids which are truly irreplaceable, or some real tragedy, like the loss of life or health or home, etc.
And I know that, as compared to all of those things, this is nothing. Compared to war and famine and the many hardships people endure the world over, this is truly a first world problem and nothing to be upset or lose sleep over.
But I was, and I did.
It took me more than 24 hours but I finally, sort of, got over it. I even found a bright side, which is that we didn’t go to Europe this Fall. If we had, all those photos would now be gone.
So on this Thanksgiving Eve, I’m going back through the thousands of photos that didn’t get deleted and reminding myself of the important things; family, friends and all the beauty in the world.
Nothing compares to that.