For The First Time — Donna Hopkins

Of course, we expect challenges the first time we do things. The first time we try to pedal a bike, bake a cake, or make a friend. We anticipate that we will make mistakes and somehow that makes the hurt a little more tolerable. But for some reason, aging seems to be something we are simply expected to know how to do. As though we should intuitively know how to relate to adult children who no longer need us, how to make our time meaningful when we retire, how to navigate the changes in forty year marriages. How to let go and shift roles. How to age without apology. We do not. We are doing this thing for the first time. It’s easy to forget that.

For a while I felt emptied out from the inside.

Living in the shape of everyone else’s needs.

I keep shaking myself and reminding myself. It’s okay to be happy.

This is not the first time I have taken this photograph. By my estimation, this car has not moved for 5 years. I’ve taken the picture at different times of the day, different seasons, with different lenses, with digital and film cameras. I never get tired of playing with the composition. There is something about orange that makes me feel joyful.

This is not the first time I have taken this photograph either. But it is the best one to date. I love the little porta-potty located on the side of the tiny post office, neatly camouflaged with patches of wooden lattice. There are picture opportunities that only present themselves once in a lifetime, as if by some miracle or magic. But there are many pictures that show up over and over again, like old friends, ready to pick up where we left off.