Today’s Five for Five theme on Momalom is Pictures.
I have years of pictures in various places in my house; in frames, in precious scrapbooks, on my computer. I’ve set my computer’s screensaver to be a slideshow of pictures that span eleven years of our lives. At any given time I can see a photo of Meg on the day she was born, or a picture I just took of the four kids recently. I often find one of my children sitting at my desk, watching the slideshow as it plays out their life, our lives.
I make scrapbooks of the pictures, although my work on them is slow and so very behind. Meg is the only child with a baby album, although each child has an album purchased and embossed with their names and dates of birth on the cover. My albums are chronological in order, so that I can see our family’s progression over the course of the year. Kids with no teeth become kids with teeth and then with no teeth again. Winter leads into spring into summer into fall and back into winter in the course of an album or two. The pictures tell our story, one year at a time.
I have a large framed picture of my kids right above my head. Meg is 7, Drew is 3 and Annie and Izzie are just over a year old. Izzie wasn’t yet walking when the picture was taken, and in the picture she’s trying to get to me by crawling over Annie, with an impish grin on her face. The kids have asked why we haven’t taken them to update the picture; after all, 4 years have passed since that picture was taken. I can’t bring myself to update this picture, despite the fact that Annie hardly has any hair and now has the most beautiful smile, despite the fact that Meg may have the same smile but she wears glasses now and is so grown up looking, despite the fact that Drew isn’t a little boy, despite the fact that Izzie, while still impish, won’t be crawling towards me in an updated photo. There is something special about the moment that picture captured, something that I don’t want to replace. Not yet anyway.
Our pictures, no matter where I find them in my home, are tiny glimpses into the big picture of our lives. They capture just a sliver of our days, yet they mean so much to me. They capture our big and small moments, they show how we’ve played and rested and grown. They tell our history, one small shutter click at a time.