Friday rolled around perhaps sooner than I expected, and much sooner than I thought I could possibly endure.
Here we were, getting dressed in clothes picked out by my lovely wife, ready to take our first family photo since we left Nepal, when in the dying moments of loading up a few remaining boxes before we headed quickly to the airport, a family friend snapped a few pictures to remind us not so much of that day, but of the family we were—as well as the family we were leaving behind.
Since that day, I’ve maintained that I never wanted to take another family photo unless we could all be there, and for more than three years that’s been impossible with us here in the States and Babita in Nepal. And so, during all that time, I’ve never offered, and Heather has never asked.
Until a few weeks ago, as she wrote in her recent blog piece, an opportunity presented itself that seemed too good to pass up, especially with more major life changes just around the corner. Mathaus is off to college in the fall, and the family dynamic will change again. I know the chances of anything resembling a family photo are slipping away. And so Heather asked, “Could we, perhaps, just this one time?”
Despite the “no” that I heard in my heart, my voice said, “yes.” And I wondered. I wondered how other people in far worse circumstances do it. How they must feel the first time they, too, must take a family photo minus one who’s left home…or even worse…passed away. What does one do? And how does one cope?
And then Friday came. Together we bounded off to a local park where the trees are starting to bloom and the sun at 5 p.m. would be just right. With us came a large photo of Babita. And while neither Heather nor I were quite sure at the time what that would mean or how that would look in the finished product, we didn’t care. Because she’s our daughter, and she’s our family, and by all rights, shouldn’t she be represented, too?
And she was— Birdie holding out the portrait while the rest of us looked straight ahead at the photographer. It’s a bit odd, I know. And I’m not sure how I like it. But on Friday, without all of my family present, it made me smile. I needed that and so did the camera.
