The Photograph

Our father had passed. We were left to go through treasures. It was a house filled with memories, where together, our parents had raised four children, celebrated marriages, and welcomed ten grandchildren.

Voices echoed in the caverness and unmistakable emptiness of it all, yet also bathed us in a familiar, comforting warmth. Furniture was now gone, but the house smelled the very same.

Tears welled. I blinked and grabbed a wadded ball of tissue from my pocket. My throat tightened, as I climbed the stairs and faced the old, abandoned bedrooms.

Once again, I was thrust back. It was summertime in my mind and a sweltering southern evening before the house had central air. We, my brothers and I, were calling out repeated requests to please turn on the attic fan. We wanted its cool comfort, pulling inside a night air laced with honeysuckle, and the whirring of the motor in the hall ceiling to lull us to sleep.

Sounds of Johnny Mathis, crooning on the old stereo downstairs on just such a night, reminded us of their undying romance and abiding love for each other. Theirs was a love story for the ages.

Relics were gone. Our parents were gone, but the memories were not. Those remaining were now housed in our minds and etched on our hearts.

In what was our own devastation of boxes, surrounding every turn in remaining rooms, we found it. A black and white photograph, circa early 1970s, was tucked among remnants of a lifetime.

A writer could develop an entire essay around the symbolism. This writer just might because the couple in the photo, traversing the ancient ruins in Greece, is my parents.

Making their way among the rubble, they resemble Hollywood. An old-style Hollywood couple forever frozen together in an image caught by the paparazzi.

Although everything has seemingly collapsed around them, they are continuing the journey, side-by-side, and together. He is looking ahead, with light coming out of the darkness, illuminating his face. She is wearing the bracelet of their journey. It’s her charm bracelet, and each represents something from her life and their life together.

We will see our parents again one day. Until then, though, we will cherish memories and hold tightly to those learned, life lessons. Through faith, we will also trust and cling to God’s forever promise of eternal life at the end of our earthly journeys.

Somehow, the photograph was a comfort that day in the house of memories. If we had ever seen it before, none remembered.

Just as our Heavenly Father goes before each of us, our parents paved the way in life. We will go forward now and do the same for our own children and grandchildren. Thank you, Mama and Daddy, for your loving example. Thank you, God.