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Wednesday, January 9, 2013


Has it really been a year since I posted?  Oh my. 

So many times this last year I have thought I need to write that. I need to write again. I need to get that down, I need to get it OUT.  But, obviously, so many times I have failed, gotten distracted, gotten lazy, pushed it down.

But more than anything, I just didn't have words.

Here we are.  2013.  And all I can think about is pictures.

Pictures rule my world. Two of my best friends are photographers. Pictures capture our moments, they capture stages, they capture emotion, love, beauty, ugliness, faith, healing, strength, weakness, color, texture.  Everything.

And all I can think about is pictures.

When Matt died, I searched and searched through every picture I had. I desperately wanted more and more- any I could get my hands on, and was and am still very appreciative of all that were and are shared. I ordered them for myself, for our family, for our friends, and obsessed over them.  It was all I had. Why didn't I take more? Why didn't I have my camera on in every waking moment? Why didn't I get the CHANCE to have the camera in his face for our R&R like I had teased him that I would?  Oh yeah.  Because God needed him more than I did.

When I was frantically ordering pictures, in the back of my mind, I scaled down. I drastically scaled down. I didn't order all that I wanted. I didn't order all that I needed.  Even then, I knew what their fate had to be.  I have ordered some since then, but no matter what, pictures do not replace him; they do not replicate him. They do not bring him back.  Pictures can catch everything. Everything in two dimensions. They can portray whatever they like. But they cannot capture and replace or continue on what is lost.  The feelings, the love, the smell, the breath, the forever that was supposed to be there but is now gone.

This past week, pictures have been weighing heavily on my mind.  Maybe its just because I had our three year anniversary, which is the third one without him.  Maybe it is because I am desperately seeking normalcy still. I am stuck between New and Normal.  Nothing is new, yet nothing is yet normal.

The most difficult thing about pictures on my mind: at some point, I am expected to get rid of them. To put them away. To hide them, maybe?

Here is my dilemma.  When it comes to pictures, parents, siblings, grandparents, cousins, friends, and even strangers can keep them.  It is okay.  No one asks them or assumes they will get rid of them. Put them away. Hide them, maybe. Widows are expected to get rid of them. To put them away. To hide them, maybe.

Please know that I am not AT ALL upset that others get to keep them.  Slightly envious, maybe, but not upset at this.  Thank goodness they get to keep them. Thank goodness I get to see them when I visit, when I go here or there. Thank goodness this is okay. And thank goodness I am allowed that opportunity.

But for me, someday, it won't be.  Some day, someone will see it as awkward. Some day, someone will find it uncomfortable. Some day, someone will tell me to get rid of them. To put them away. To hide them, maybe.  Some day, I will no longer be able to be stubborn, I will no longer be able to argue and win my need versus theirs. Some day, I will get rid of them. I will put them away. I will hide them, maybe.

And it breaks my heart.

I don't understand why I cannot have this season of my life, albeit short-much shorter than I would have planned it to be- as a piece of my life moving forward.  I don't understand why I am expected to get rid of them. To put them away. To hide them, maybe.

This is the argument.  How would you like it if someone had pictures of their ex all over the house? You would want them to get rid of them. To put them away. To hide them, maybe.  Yes. I would. But this is so different. This is so, so, so different.  Nothing offends me more (now that the whole baby thing is out of the way) than someone comparing a break up, divorce, nasty argument, to the loss of my husband.  They are NOT the same. In no way, in no shape, in no world are these the same or comparable. At all. Period.   My reaction in the past has been to simply ignore this. But in this situation, when it comes to my pictures, our pictures, his pictures, I cannot ignore, and I will not agree.

Another argument: It will be uncomfortable at some point to have pictures of me and another man in the house. While this is a more feasible and acceptable argument, I still call "Crap".  If there is a person that I am comfortable enough with to allow in my home, don't you think that they would know this back story? I am open enough about it that anyone that asks or questions knows this back story. If I ever find myself in this dilemma, I am sure that it will be in a relationship that is strong, and more than likely, will have equal pictures.  If this makes one uncomfortable, then I guess that the relationship is not strong. Or they don't need to be in my home.

My pictures make me happy. My pictures make me smile. My pictures make me love. My pictures remind me. My pictures remind me that I was onced loved. My pictures give me hope that I can be loved again.  Don't make me get rid of them. Don't make me put them away. Don't make me hide them, maybe.

1 comment:

  1. I have a friend who lost his wife to cancer when she was 24 and he was 26. He has been married to another woman for 8 years now and they have pictures of his first wife here and there throughout the house. They dated and lived together for years before he took his first wife's voice off the answering machine. I never thought it was weird. I can't imagine such a huge part of your life being hidden in a box and like you said... somebody that is deserving enough to be with you, will have enough love in his heart not to be insecure because of pictures. I wish I had pictures to give you. When I found out he died. I searched through all of mine and only found one. I couldn't believe it. I know he didn't love having his picture taken and it was before digital cameras... but how did I only get one picture?