One week from today will mark what would have been my dad’s 71st birthday. He’s been gone a year and a half now, and I think about him everyday.
I feel incredibly grateful to have spent so much time with him during the last few months of his life. Sometimes we’d talk; sometimes we’d watch television. I’d almost always take a picture of the two of us–a selfie. He loved those moments, those pictures.
Parkinson’s made it difficult for him to smile, but he tried his best. The effort it took for him to ask his face to reflect the joy within makes me smile every time I think about it.
I’ve spent time looking through family pictures, reliving a lifetime of memories–a road trip to Kansas, Christmases past, my parents’ prom.
I’m lucky to have those pictures. I’ve heard so many people throughout the years refuse to have their pictures taken at special events because they didn’t like an aspect of their physical appearance. I have friends who say they wished they had more family pictures.
It might be true that the sweetest memories are held in the heart, but the pictorial images also bring comfort, and I’m oh so grateful for the joyful moments that comfort me when I look at pictures.