Last night, for several hours, I sat with dusty photo albums in my lap and went through them – picture by picture, page by page.
Five albums – each as fully packed with pictures as possible – marked time that I was interested in.
Son was born March, ’83.
His daughter, Sophia, was born two and a half months after his 30th birthday – on a Friday, just like he was.
Each time I’ve seen her, I’ve marveled at resemblances I see. Yes. I see Son in her. And, Mom, too. And, I see traces of others in her genetic past, as well.
Sophia turns 11 weeks old on Friday.
As I paged through the photo albums, many memories surfaced. And, I’ll admit, there were some things I’d completely forgotten. How long had it been since I’d last looked at photos? Years??
Some pictures are engrained on my mind and heart – so much so that I see them in my mind’s eye without the aid of the albums. These I carry within me always. Snapshots of times past, of laughter, joy and good times.
On the pages I turned, there were pictures 30 years old of
- my 58 year old dad (how I miss him!)
- my 56 year old mom (only a year older than I)
- my grandmothers
- Hubby, not yet 30 himself
- me…still just a kid in many ways
- places we lived
- friends we knew
- journeys we took
- pets we had
- a new born Son
- an 18 month old Son and his new Sister
- many, many firsts for Son (and for us)
Carefully, I selected pictures and removed them from the self-stick pages and placed them, one by one, into an album.
There was Son – not yet born but on his way – a belly full and a pain in my…back.
There he was again – newly born and perfectly formed.
And, again, a week old.
Two weeks old.
And, so it went.
And, then I arrived at 11 weeks. Son, then, at the same age as his Sophia, now.
I continued on through the albums, pulling pictures and placing them in their new home. And, with each picture I pulled, my heart grew fuller as I relived the joy of raising Son, and, looked forward in time to the joy Son and Daughter-in-Love have waiting for them these next 18 months.
Make that 18 years….
…30 years and counting.
My children laughed at me because of the tremendous amount of pictures I took when they were growing up. Now it’s time for me to cull my pictures – Son’s go to Son and Daughter’s go to Daughter – to keep alive childhood memories for my children as they move into the next stage of their lives.
And, of course, I will keep a few that mean the most to me. And, within my pile of pictures, will be the first time I saw Sophia…all I could do was look at her, and the first time I held her…my heart so full I could not speak.
We do so much for our children that they are unaware of. And, if, perchance they are aware, they often misunderstand our actions or intentions.
Such is the life of parents – something Son and Daughter-in-love are about to discover. Shh, don’t tell them.
I hope the newly created album of 30 year old memories of Son’s early life reveal a happy beginning. We were happy. We didn’t have all the answers (still don’t), but we had enough love.
**Son, if you’re reading this, when you get the album be sure to note that you are only a few months old when you began reading. 😉