I’m changing a picture, a photograph from a long time ago– but with spots and imperfections, a dear time in my immediate family history already. They weren’t kidding when they said, “Take lots of pictures.” It goes super-fast, too quickly, then you miss your kids when they were babies. It’s a magical time– It was.
I happened to walk into an unfamiliar room when they were romping on new carpet without stains. We had just moved into our house, first-time-home-buyers on the market with large plans, new ideas, and big dreams. Not a board or stick of furniture was present in this room but lovely French doors with few scratches. We settled in a Norman Rockwell kind of town, something that looks like it belongs on a Christmas card from way back when it’s lit with lights. But this picture, it was perfect timing. Looking back, it seemed and felt hectic and difficult with different types of struggles than now; but looking back, what was I thinking?– It was ideal. Why didn’t I think it was perfect enough at the time, during those months, those few years that expanded into many that fled in a hurry?
I was usually, almost always and still am, the one behind the camera, so there are hardly any pictures taken of me with my children– or any taken of me, at all. Oh, there are a few, but… (They’re gawd-awful.) Don’t do what I did and still have a tendency of doing. Have someone take pictures of you with yours. Don’t get into such a habit that you’re the one left out of a photographed moment that your offspring and their offspring will want to talk about when they’re holding the pictures someday and wonder where on earth you were each and every time. Be in the pictures more than a few times. Don’t get stuck in the kitchen longer than you should, don’t miss an annual parade. Don’t miss out on a New Year’s party or your first few anniversaries and thereafter. Be on the other side of a lens.
The carpet was ripped off the floor in exchange for laminate flooring, the French doors have more than a few scratches and probably ought to be restored by now, and the room has been converted into the kids’ crafts/art room. This picture is finally on the wall somewhere. I’ve covered the spots with felt buttons, stuck them with glue inside the glass, just right for a crafts and art room for children, certainly for mine. My kids are always drawing, painting, building and cutting paper like yours. This fits them, in this room when they’re having fun creating momentous things that I will keep when I am old, they’ve got this picture on their wall to remember the good times with their father– a time of play.
Don’t just keep them on a disc, stuck in an e-mail, displayed only on an iphone or stored online without printing them out because our kids need to see them on the walls. I think we need to see the photographs on the walls, too, on those tough days when it’s good to be reminded of the times that make it worth getting through the days that seem impossible to bear.
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