Your Favorite Photograph and Explain Why

I've waited practically all day to do this blog. I even thought about skipping it. I wasn't really sure why today's prompt was a tough one. Then, as I was sitting quietly (mostly) and I thought about trying to pick one favorite picture from my life, I realized I couldn't. I remembered the session of Mourning Hope (our grief center) where people were talking about things they weren't able to do since their loved one passed. I stated that it was REALLY hard for me to look at photos. Sitting here, thinking about this blog, that thought popped into my head. 

The day after Anitra died, people sat in the house trying to find pictures that would represent the life she lived the most. In most of the pictures you could read her eyes and know to what degree of mental illness she was living in. You could see her young, in the days before the darkness took over. You could see her with her children, a special brightness in her eyes. You could see her in the last picture taken of her, a very scary look to her eyes (how had I missed that look when I took the picture?). As much joy as looking at some of those pictures brought, there was also much sadness in know that there would never be another one. In the pictures of sadness, there was no peace when you knew how her life ended. 

We have family pictures from when we were on vacation. A family, that while I love with all of my heart, makes me feel guilty to have sometimes. It's no secret how I feel about her children. They are mine in every sense of the word. I could not love them more if I have had given birth to them. I do feel guilty though. I know they are mine because she is gone. I know that I have them to love as mine because she trusted us with them. So while the family pictures are happy, there is forever a bitter-sweetness to them. 

I see pictures of my children young and it makes me smile. I see pictures of my husband and I so much younger and it makes me remember what we were like in the beginning. I see pictures of myself growing up and I'm reminded of the past. I see pictures of my grandparents, parents, etc...and it's fun to think about the time that has passed and how much more time will pass. 

It's not that I think pictures are bad. I love them. I'm just not able to pick one. They say a picture can tell a thousand words and I know it's true. I'm grateful for that. It's just hard to hear some of the words. 

So...I waited all day but in the end, I did blog. I even stayed on topic, though I'm sure that this is not the direction of the topic. I'm getting really good with that. :)