Lisha Cassibo has been writing for the Uxbridge Cosmos for two years, both as a freelancer and as a columnist. She has also written for several parenting magazines both here in Canada and for English publications in Switzerland. She graduated from Carleton University with an honours degree in Journalism and English Literature. She lives with her family in Sunderland.
Sliding into the past
Well, here's me, caught out in a total, complete lie. Last column I wrote I exposed myself to the world as a “techno twit”, completely useless on a computer and other devices that involve electricity or batteries. I would now like to take it all back. This past weekend I discovered a whole new side of me, and I'm seriously thinking of making it a career. I made a DVD, all by myself, no help, no professionals involved. Just me and a Macs for Dummies book. And I am supremely proud of myself. I'm not sure, however, if I'm proud of the job I did, or just silly excited over what I did and for whom I did it.
After my parents passed away a few years ago, my brother and I, of course, earned the not-so-enviable task of cleaning out 30-plus years of stuff from their house. Anyone who has done this for people of that generation knows that, eventually, one of those ancient slide projectors and trays upon trays of slides will surface and beg to be watched. So I got the projector, and it sat in our loft until the Friday before March Break. I hauled everything out, cleaned up the machine, and did a happy dance when it actually turned on and the light worked. The girls and I, and a poor unsuspecting friend who happened to be over that night, made popcorn, poured wine (not the girls, just the friend and I) and settled in to watch pictures on a wall. I had to move the carousel manually, we had to shove a screwdriver into the depths of the machine more than a few times to remind it to work again, and our night was cut short when I got a little frustrated and shook the whole thing, only to break the filament in the bulb. My bad. But we did spend about an hour looking at photos that I didn't know existed. I was taken over with memories, and delighted in telling my children about each picture; they delighted in seeing Mummy as a little girl, and the funky outfits we all wore.
I was talking to my brother's wife a few days later, and told her about our little adventure, and she commented that my brother would surely love to see the slides, as would she. And a little idea began to form in my head. Rather than pass along the now useless projector, why not do the modern thing and put them all on DVD? I toyed with the idea of getting someone to do it for me, but my hubby suggested “Why not just buy one of those little machine thingys (he's very technical, too) and do it yourself? It'll be cheaper.”
So I did. For 100 bucks I got hours of entertainment, and a newfound respect for myself. I spent all Good Friday plugging 500-plus slides into my computer, and giggled like a madwoman each time I figured out a new step. See, I had big visions of an Oscar-worthy show, complete with fades, editing, music - the works. I also had little hope, and would have been happy if it had just been a collection of pictures. But I discovered things as I went along, and it just got better and better. My eldest daughter asked me at several points during the day why I was in such a good mood, I was never like this, and I could only reply that I was excited, and happy and that it was working! And all I could think about was my brother's reaction to the gift I would present to him.
He's had a bit of a rough time since our folks died, and, to be honest, I wasn't sure whether the slides would help or hinder his progress to getting his life back in order. But the need to share won out, and I reasoned that I wasn't just doing it for him, I was doing it for his wife (who really needed to know what a nutter he is) and my nieces, who would never really get to know who Nana and Poppa were other than through pictures and stories.
I made my DVD, and as I hit the “Burn DVD” button on my computer, I danced with the girls, so proud of my accomplishment. It has a fancy introduction, it has “chapters”, it has music, it is perfect (almost. I couldn't figure out how to run credits at the end, and was running out of time! It had to be delivered on Sunday…)
The real joy, however, came in giving the disc to my brother. He's a strong, stoic sort of fellow, and would never betray an emotion to anyone. He did put it in right away, though, and we spent Easter Sunday in his living room watching the past come to life again. I glanced at his face a few times, and I watched him do a funny little thing with his bottom lip, something he does when he's agitated, and for a moment I was afraid. But a few moments later we all laughed at a silly photo of my dad in an apron, and all was OK again.
I love giving presents that have me so excited about giving them I could throw up. And this one topped them all. Not only was it a present for my little bro, but a present for our families; combined, they're all he and I have left. Most of the people in those slide pictures are gone. I loved that I created it, on a computer no less, and I look forward to the joy it will bring all of us.
Now, what to do with this silly little slide machine…hm….
