The photos of the childhood part of my life. I was awkward, shy, and afraid of everything.
High school graduation—with a dream in my mind, and a sparkle in my eye.
The beginning of a new path in life.
I’m behind the camera most of the time, and my husband isn’t that steady, even in the automatic mode, so a lot of photos come out rather fuzzy, which is really okay when they’re of me.
Anyway, that means I have the pleasure of avoiding being the subject in most pictures taken. For the overly critical mind I haul around with me, not a one of them is perfect. However, I’m coming to accept this. Guess what? I’m not perfect! Who knew?
I have been rummaging through my stored photos and trying to organize them when I have time. I have enjoyed the memories while viewing them.
Unfortunately, there is the photo taken May 30, 2011–the day before I was diagnosed with cancer. I had just finished building some wooden boxes for our oldest son. The boxes would give him more storage that a twin bed mattress would fit on top of. I thought it would be of use to him while living in his fraternity house.
I was proud of my boxes. Frazzled, but proud. This particular photo has become a dark memory for me and overshadowed my accomplishment. When I look at this photo, I see fear, but trying to remain strong. That band around my wrist will always remind me that this was the night before life changed for me and my family.
The words, “it was cancer”, seriously was not what I had expected. Who does?
The beginning of another trip down depression lane.
The photo of Christmas 2012 with two of my kids. Deep in the grip of depression I was fighting so hard to recover from. That photo now reminds me just how determined I am, and that determination has saved my life.
I will probably always look at those photos and have to work hard for the beauty held within them, but I will continue trying, for these photos are few.
The photos like this? Now doubt about it, they were happy memory makers.
This year, we will all be together for Christmas, and I believe many beautiful memories will be made, and if I get a haircut, maybe I might look on the outside as I’ve been feeling on the inside. I wonder, a hundred years from now when one of my relatives is trying to envision what life was like for their distant relative, will they see the darkness in the same photos I see?
Hope you find some beauty today.