I was going through some options for today’s post and decided to look through my catalog of pictures, which I try to make many of and organize well so I am able to go back to them. On this particular Memorial Day in 2008, we had a stack of people over the house for an impromptu celebration. The days attendees includes Mom, David, Jenny, Nicole, Jeane, Greg, Ashley, Colby, Tom, Jackie, and me. As I recall, it was super sunny and hot. It is confirmed by the pictures of later that day where everybody was sporting a fiery red face. Colby took honors for most burnt, and I remember days later that the stock price of aloe went up as a result of the severity of his burn.
We had one of those days that you could not have predicted or planned—it just happened. We all took the train in or drove to Milford. Mom was ecstatic that we were all coming over and had set it up in just the way she knew how. We played about in the sun, footballs were thrown, the water was tested. The grill was sizzling with ribs, chicken, dogs, and the usual fanfare.
At some point we broke out the awning, and a game of Scrabble began. It wasn’t your typical Scrabble game but a “Dirty Scrabble” game in which only dirty words were allowed. It really exposed a lot about all who attended. I was going to post the picture of the final board but decided to not, as it really was about dirty as it gets.
There was nothing but smiles to be had. We “cheers’d” to the point of cheesy and made up a bonfire that burned brighter than our faces. I look back at these pictures, and there wasn’t an indication of what was to come. David was happy, and my mother had her trademark smile on and was playing along with us as if she was just one of the friends.
It’s tough when you look back upon a day like this and the pictures that we took that day. For that moment in time, everything was good. There was not a care in the world outside of the penance we would pay for our overexposure to the sun and the beers.
I look at these pictures, and all my pictures from time to time, and ask myself, “Could you see this all coming?” Was there any indication that two years later, we would lose our mom, and four years later, I would be writing this post to all of you?
I browse again and again, and all I see are the faces of people who were living for the moment, enjoying one another’s time. I drive by the beach house when I am in CT from time to time and think about the decades I spent on a patch of sand roughly 75’ long. It is a dichotomy of feelings: We spent days of joy and days of grief at this house. But no matter what, it was a gathering of people who loved each other unconditionally.
I had a good weekend this weekend past, but I am pretty sure it will never be what it once was for those years leading up. I am certain there will be milestones of joy and jubilation in my years to come. I am also quite sure I won’t be able to share those with David and Mom, and that is the rub. I look back at these pictures, and I see how happy and unaware we were.
I am glad to have this catalog of memories. No matter how much it hurts when I browse them, I know I am lucky to have this photo-journal. You sometimes need to see the forest from the trees. When you do, you will see that while there are some rough patches, we forget too easily the good times. When I go through these pictures like I did this morning, it reminded me so much of that happened that day.
Remember to take pictures, and to write a little blurb if you can, about each and every day. When you are feeling down, you can look back upon the days that were good. When you move forward, you can look back and see how dire and desperate things may have looked at the time and compare that to where you are at when you have overcome.
It’s all about the forest from the trees. I am not sure what this weekend will look like a year or four from now. While I am saddened a bit this morning about the reality of the situation, I did some very epic things that I probably don’t realize the full impact of just yet.
I hope you all made some memories this Memorial Day weekend.
