(Don't) Pose for the Photographer...

Today, I was going through closets, trying to rid myself of more stuff. A good deal of that "stuff" was the remnant of about 16 years of my life that brought back memories... and some of them not so pleasant...

and then I saw it. My parents' wedding photo album. It'll be 50 years old next August 27... and it would have been their "golden" anniversary.

The album was in remarkable shape, despite its many trips from house to apartment to house again. The black and white photos taken in 1961 were amazingly well-preserved. So I stopped my task of cleaning to sit for a while and have a closer look. Something told me I needed to do that.

The clothing back in the early '60s looked so uncomfortable, yet so very stylish. Lots of shiny fabric and lace things. There was a picture of the guests going through the receiving line in the vestibule, and nearly every lady had on a pillbox hat. Guess they were all the rage at that time - at least they appeared to be in the little town of Denton, NC. Looking closer at the group, I almost didn't recognize my Pa-Paw, who you hardly ever caught smiling, much less doing so in a photo. He was almost beaming as he reached to shake someone's hand. It was a happy day.

I found a picture of my mom and dad, posing for their cake cutting picture. I could tell it was posed because mom didn't have on her engagement ring or wedding band. Must've taken these shots prior to the wedding ceremony.

Posing...? Hmmm. Not at all, really. It was unmistakable. The happiness radiated from their eyes. The way dad cradled mom's hand in his as they cut the cake. They way they both smiled, and the fact that, even though this was to be a "formal" pose, you could tell my mom wanted so badly to smash that cake right up dad's nose and laugh in that unforgettable way she always did.

I had gone through much of the past sixteen years of my life "posing." I tried to be the best girlfriend/wife/step-mom/friend/etc. I could be, but it just never felt quite right, no matter what I did. Look at my pictures over that time period, and you'd see a well-trained, perfectly-timed smile. Look deeper inside, though, and you'd find a lost, miserable soul who knew she was posing.

So as I sat there, almost meditating, something struck me. Wow. My parents were nineteen when they married. I was so far from being REMOTELY ready to think about marriage when I was that age. But they did it with a level of bravery, maturity, humor...and love...that was amazing. As their daughter, I was fortunate to see this "partnership" at work...and they made it work every day for almost 17 years until mom passed away at the age of 35.

The more I gazed at those photos, the more it became apparent to me that I have a combination of my mother's and father's smile, as well as the sparkle in their eyes. Definitely mom's quick-thinking sense of humor and mischievous nature. How do I know this? Because I've seen it in my own recent photos... and it's been noticed and remarked on by friends and people that I don't even know. Maybe it's because in that moment right before the flash, that finally, I look at where I am and who I'm with, and for that split second, I feel just like mom and dad did in that photo. Happy. Hopeful. In love.

I close the album and smile...without having to pose.