I Forgot My Camera

In honor of our 23 Wedding Anniversary, Kel found a way to solicit my mom's help in watching the children so we could enjoy a weekend in St. Louis.

But I forgot my camera.


No pictures of fireworks over the arch, the revelry and musicians on Laclead's Landing, or a foreign taxi driver from the casino. No pictures of the historic (but newly renovated) Mayfair hotel, back door tour of the Clydesdales at Annhauser-Busch, or Llewellyn's Irish Pub. No pictures of the reflecting pond in Forest Park, Chuck Close's amazing painting of Keith or Gerhard Richter's thoughtful grey glass reflection in the Art Museum. No pictures of the expansive city skyline, or tiny mosaic tiles at the Cathedral Basilica. (Or, the Archbishop giving us an anniversary blessing afterwards). No pictures to help me remember the characters in the European-like open market at Soulard's, nor the gorgeous fresh cut flowers, produce, meats, cheese, fish for sale. No pictures of us under the patio lights at the Italian restaurant on The Hill, nor meandering through the prayerful walkways at Our Lady of the Snows.

I don't have a photographic memory.
Fond memories will have to do.