I had to clear up space somehow. Without deleting valuable apps (and shaking my first at HTC for its bloatware), I knew I had to do one thing.
The number of images in my DCIM folder was reaching 2,000.
I emptied the Instagram folder. I emptied the Square Instapic folder. I emptied whichever folder I could before I approached the dreaded task of the main folder.
The folder where my pictures of Bella are.
The folder where so many memories of Shep live on.
It’s a task I knew would come eventually. It’s a task I knew shouldn’t be as difficult as it could be, considering all my smartphone pictures have been backed up to Dropbox since 2011. I could even make a folder on my desktop and transfer them all over.
But deleting them from my phone seemed a betrayal of my Gentle Giant, my Perfect Prince.
In the back of my mind, I knew I would be recording Shep’s last days. I made him the subject of my One Second of Awesome as often as I could. (As I look back, I didn’t make him the subject as often as I should have … which was every day.)
The day he died was the last time I bothered to think “I have to shoot One Second of Awesome today.”
Because it became a struggle to find awesome.
When I opened the app yesterday, even wondering if I should delete it, I realized I could upload pictures instead of video. I realized I could backdate my one seconds with photos.
And that’s how I spent much of yesterday … remembering my awesome moments with Shep for the last year of his life.
Here’s how it looked:
More seconds with Bella
Now it’s Bella’s turn.
By the end of February, she had been with us for six months.
She turned one year old on March 24.
She has grown from 60 pounds to almost 80.
She can’t hide under the coffee table any longer; she’s too tall.
She has a big girl bark.
She’s been through as much change in the last eight months than a lot of dogs face in a lifetime.
And she’s the awesome in every day.
Here’s her first video:
Memories don’t stop being made
There’s a little problem with apps like One Second Everyday. It can start to feel like an obligation, a chore, a burden.
The founder even wrote on the app’s blog about the agony he felt when he realized he missed a day.
One day, one second of a video.
Sometimes, it’s more important to put the phone down and live in the moment, instead of making sure you get a picture. (No, honey, I’m not going to stop taking a picture of every craft beer I drink to upload to Untappd. You also have to just endure the moments when your chef must take a picture of her culinary artwork.)
Sometimes, it’s more important to bounce around the backyard with Bella than to make sure I get a video of it.
Sometimes, it’s more important to participate than to record.