Where is my arm?

I feel like it’s been cut off. Or a lil’ chunk of my heart or spirit or something.
You may think I’m crazy.
But if you know me, you may understand.
My camera is broke.
The zoom ring and the manual focus ring no longer work.
I found an authorized minolta repair shop, about 3 hours from here, that does free estimates.
But it’s not likely to happen soon.
My son’s birthday is Thursday and then next week is my 2nd to youngest daughter’s birthday.
And we usually have a big deal, somewhat, on the 4th of July. In fact I made some fairly decent shots of fireworks last year, playin’ around, learning.
But these holidays, these moments, these memories without my camera?
I know it’s bizarre, but that is how I express myself. That is how I preserve those moments of time, those flitterings of beauty that pass before you know it.
That’s me.
So, I don’t feel like I’m emotional about the ‘thing’, the tool, but about what I do with it, that part of me.
It’s my therapy. Sometimes I just walk away from everything, just for a few moments, and I go and shoot up a film card. It makes me more peaceful. It helps me to stop and appreciate what’s around me. The little things. And the big things.
So, I’m here.
Most of me anyway.

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