This morning I decided to begin the dreaded task of going through thousands of family pictures and dividing them up between my two adult children. I say this is my purpose when actually I think I’m trying to declutter my own mess.
Of course once you start going through pictures they speak for themselves. There’s a reason each picture was taken. Memories are tied to pictures.
Family gatherings. Kids being kids. Snow fall. Vacations. Graduations. Birthday parties. Team photos. Looking through pictures is reliving the past years – step by step. Pictures serve as reminders of happy times. Times when life was friendly and carefree. When you are raising children you snap pictures of their first tooth, their first steps, first birthday – all the firsts. Mothers are the most guilty of this behavior. It’s like we want to stop time and hold them right there. Wishing they would forever consider us their best friend, their only love. We take pictures for years of activities and most pictures do land in a box somewhere. But it is our right as mothers to capture these memories. And we take that right very seriously.
As I went through picture this morning there were thousands, maybe millions of tears. How did all this happen so quickly? Yes I admit I still have that dress tucked away hidden in a drawer. And his first t-ball jersey? Yep I have that as well. Those mother buttons with his picture in his football jersey which I proudly wore each Friday? Yes they too are in the same drawer. I could admit to so much more but any mother reading this knows exactly where her drawer of hidden memories is as well.
As I continued my walk back in time with the pictures I suddenly came across one that made me pause – reflect – and to be honest was very different than all the other pictures. Spring Break of 2001 our perfect family of four took a vacation to Ruidoso. Not to ski but to be together to laugh, climb mountain trails, take in the incredible smell of pine trees during a short rain shower, cook out, eat smores – all the family “things” we had enjoyed for the past 20 years. Our son was home from Texas Tech and our daughter was a sophomore in high school. Perfect ages to share stories of past vacations and memories as we sat around a camp fire.
On one of our adventures their Dad insisted we pull over and take pictures. Now we were married for 25 years and to my knowledge I do not ever remember him suggesting a photo session. Of course the kids were in favor so we all jumped out of the SUV and endured the 20 mph freezing cold wind – for a picture. As usual I began telling them where to stand because I’m never in a picture – I take the pictures. Gary made it clear that he was taking the picture of the three of us. My response, “Ok let’s just get this done and back in the warm car.” We continued the week of togetherness which ended too soon.
As I gaze at this picture tears fall – tears flood. What makes this picture different is that I do not remember Gary ever taking a picture of me and the kids. This picture is the only picture that exists of me and the kids – without Dad. Second, four weeks later he passed with a sudden heart attack. On a Wednesday before Brady was to come home on Thursday night for Easter break. This vacation was the last time our precious family was together as one.
As I remember the story behind the picture, it’s as if somehow Gary knew – without really knowing – this picture would represent our new family. Our family without him in the picture. A broken family who would face unbearable grief. A family with so many unanswered questions. A God serving family who would wonder “Why us?” A family who, 17 years later, is still unable to talk about the missing piece.
To me this one picture, 10 seconds of time, represented a foreshadowing of what was to come. Through continued tears I am reminded that we never know when the last time is the last time. In the snap of your fingers life can change – never to be the same again. Changing and shattering all your foundation – allowing blame to be placed on God and causing doubt in faith. Pictures truly are worth a thousand words. Sometimes the words may be silent and subtle. But the story is there for those who see beyond the obvious.
Treading Water 