A Picture is Worth...
I found myself sitting at the computer, doing some work which involved 'think time'. I didn't realize just how long I had been 'thinking', but when I looked up at the monitor, the screen had returned to screensaver mode to reveal the scrolling collage of family pictures that my husband, Mike had selected quite some time ago. I am so used to seeing these pictures; they rarely capture my attention anymore. Tonight, however, they did. I sat and just looked at them. I began to reminisce over each one and soon realized that we really DON'T take pictures of 'bad' moments and memories. Of course not! Now I will admit, I do take BAD pictures (I don't pretend to be a great photographer), but generally, I don't capture BAD moments. We all love to capture the good, even borderline, unrealistic 'Leave it to Beaver' or 'Ozzie and Harriet' family moments.
As I thought through and enjoyed each picture, I also realized that some of the GOOD memories were intertwined with sadness... a picture of my son, Darian, playing a game; a new houseplant in the background serves as a reminder that my father-in-law had just died. A picture of Darian, Mike, and my dad lounging in chairs beside an open fire at our favorite camping spot reminds me that we will never visit that spot again. It was in Dad's best interest to sell the motorhome and boat. The tents have been rolled up and put away somewhere. No...I know we won't go back. A happy picture of my sister with her husband and family...now reeling and suffering the effects of a very difficult divorce. A picture of much of my extended family playing games together in the large home of my parents; a home that is really the only one their 26 grandchildren have ever known; a home that truly was our only vacation spot for most of my married life. Now this home will be cleaned out and sold...the 'physical' memories will either be given away, sold, or thrown away. They won't even be moved to a new home with my parents. Only the things that are truly necessary will be able to go this time. Mom will move into a facility where everything will be new and strange...but then, dementia has its own cruel way of making even the most loving and familiar things new, strange, and very unwelcome. She will get to keep her cat, and she wants her piano. Ideally, Dad wants to stay in that big empty house until it sells. We will see. As soon as possible, he will move into a small, manageable home close to the facility.
All of the pictures scrolling by on my computer are so full of life, love, and smiles; but each one carries with it "the rest of the story". As time rolls by, looking at precious memories remains such a blessing. And yes, as time rolls by, those same, sweet memories tend to mingle with sadness as our circumstances change. I have often thought about how I will look at pictures with my dad, and wonder what it will be like to look at those same pictures after he is no longer living here on earth. And so, I choose to relish the beautiful memories of all of my photographs, knowing that beauty is so often a mysterious blend of joy and sorrow...sorrow that comes from loving someone so deeply, and recognizing just how little control I have over the changes that life brings. I will continue to love to capture as many beautiful memory moments as I can through the lens of a camera.
When I pick up my camera, I do so with passion and anticipation of creating a legacy of love. Our heavenly Father is like that. He is the Master Photographer. With each picture that He gives us...through nature, through His Word, through the gift of friends and family, and through any other means, He longs for us to see life through HIS lens. He longs for us to experience life filled with His passion for us and His legacy of love for us that turns our sadness to joy; our mourning into dancing. He gives purpose to certain events of life that we may never understand while on this earth. So...may we all continue to snap those pictures of beautiful memory moments...and to be willing to share "the rest of the story". God is good...all the time!
Thanks for reading,
Libby
As I thought through and enjoyed each picture, I also realized that some of the GOOD memories were intertwined with sadness... a picture of my son, Darian, playing a game; a new houseplant in the background serves as a reminder that my father-in-law had just died. A picture of Darian, Mike, and my dad lounging in chairs beside an open fire at our favorite camping spot reminds me that we will never visit that spot again. It was in Dad's best interest to sell the motorhome and boat. The tents have been rolled up and put away somewhere. No...I know we won't go back. A happy picture of my sister with her husband and family...now reeling and suffering the effects of a very difficult divorce. A picture of much of my extended family playing games together in the large home of my parents; a home that is really the only one their 26 grandchildren have ever known; a home that truly was our only vacation spot for most of my married life. Now this home will be cleaned out and sold...the 'physical' memories will either be given away, sold, or thrown away. They won't even be moved to a new home with my parents. Only the things that are truly necessary will be able to go this time. Mom will move into a facility where everything will be new and strange...but then, dementia has its own cruel way of making even the most loving and familiar things new, strange, and very unwelcome. She will get to keep her cat, and she wants her piano. Ideally, Dad wants to stay in that big empty house until it sells. We will see. As soon as possible, he will move into a small, manageable home close to the facility.
All of the pictures scrolling by on my computer are so full of life, love, and smiles; but each one carries with it "the rest of the story". As time rolls by, looking at precious memories remains such a blessing. And yes, as time rolls by, those same, sweet memories tend to mingle with sadness as our circumstances change. I have often thought about how I will look at pictures with my dad, and wonder what it will be like to look at those same pictures after he is no longer living here on earth. And so, I choose to relish the beautiful memories of all of my photographs, knowing that beauty is so often a mysterious blend of joy and sorrow...sorrow that comes from loving someone so deeply, and recognizing just how little control I have over the changes that life brings. I will continue to love to capture as many beautiful memory moments as I can through the lens of a camera.
When I pick up my camera, I do so with passion and anticipation of creating a legacy of love. Our heavenly Father is like that. He is the Master Photographer. With each picture that He gives us...through nature, through His Word, through the gift of friends and family, and through any other means, He longs for us to see life through HIS lens. He longs for us to experience life filled with His passion for us and His legacy of love for us that turns our sadness to joy; our mourning into dancing. He gives purpose to certain events of life that we may never understand while on this earth. So...may we all continue to snap those pictures of beautiful memory moments...and to be willing to share "the rest of the story". God is good...all the time!
Thanks for reading,
Libby
Labels: Libby
posted by Missy at
12:01 AM
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home