The Unexpected Blessing of a Newly Surfaced Photo

Inside: How an old snapshot of me and my dad helped me appreciate my mom more. And how growing older or losing parents can alter our perspectives and enable us to reframe memories in a healing way.

When I visited my aunt in Wisconsin last September, I was drawn to a thick album of family history on a shelf near her favorite reading chair.

My parents had a similar binder full of photocopied pictures and family memories in their home. But I had always skipped over the photos and gone straight to the written material when I looked at it.

Not This Time

At my aunt’s house, I went page by page, cooing over adorable baby pictures of my dad I had never noticed before and soaking up tidbits of genealogy from my aunt. (For example, my paternal grandmother, who died when my dad was 16, was born in Ukraine but emigrated to Germany with her family during the Russian Revolution.)

Eventually, I worked my way to the section containing photos of the families of my dad and his siblings. One grainy snapshot caught my eye because it was of my dad reading to a child in the dark-paneled living room of my childhood home.

The caption identified the child as one of my sisters. As I studied the picture, however, I realized I was looking at a much-younger version of myself.

An Unexpected Gift

A while back, author Lisa Appelo shared a photo of herself and her late husband that was taken in their high school yearbook class. “Newly surfaced pictures are the actual best,” she wrote in the Instagram caption.

I know what she means. I have few photos of myself as girl, and to discover one that depicts one of my most cherished memories was an unexpected gift.

There I am—probably eight or nine years old, all arms and legs with a goofy smile on my face—snuggled up to my dad as he reads a Ramona the Pest book.

Bookish Entertainment

My dad read to all seven of us kids—every night for as long as we were willing to join him. There is a 16-year gap between oldest and youngest, so I’m guessing it was just a few of us at a time, or only one, as the photocopied picture shows.

We didn’t have a television when I was growing up, so—in addition to quality time with our dad—those nightly reading sessions provided a good deal of entertainment.

More to the Story

The photo does more than bring back happy memories of my dad acting out Uncle Arthur’s Bedtime Stories, though. The dark paneling on the walls reminds me of the way he painstakingly remodeled our three-story, turn-of-the-century farmhouse: One room—down to the studs—every year or two (except for one year when he redid all three bedrooms on the second floor).

I also consider—for the first time in my life, I think—what my poor mom put up with during all those years of renovation. I’m sure she appreciated the end result each time my dad finished a room But the process must have been a challenge for a mother with seven children who liked to keep a very clean house.

The Real Hero

When Randy remodeled our kitchen a few years ago, the dust nearly drove me crazy. My mom had to deal with all that and more, one room after another. Plus, she had to live in the house before it was remodeled.

In retrospect, I’d say she deserved some kind of medal.

Back then, and even when she was still alive, I never thought to ask her about any of this. If I had, perhaps I would have appreciated her more, in so many ways.

How I See It Now

Which brings me to a few current thoughts, written from the perspective of someone whose parents have been gone for almost four years. I understand what it’s like to struggle with certain aspects of your upbringing or with the relationship you have with your parents as an adult. (I’m not talking about abuse, but rather things you wish they had done differently or ways they practiced their faith or how they interacted with you.)

If that’s where you find yourself, I’d encourage you to give it time. In five or 10 or 15 years, maybe after you lose a parent or two, things may look different. I can’t say how exactly, but just leave yourself open to the grace of that prospect.

You Never Know

It might be difficult to consider right now, but there’s always the possibility you might discover your parents actually got a few things right, or that they did the best they could, or that they were dealing with struggles or problems you never knew about back then (or even now).

Getting older—or losing loved ones who have been around our entire lives—hands us the opportunity to look at life from perspectives other than our own. To reframe a few memories, like I did after I found the picture of me and my dad.

Some people are naturally good at this. For others of us, it takes time and years and our own collection of hard experiences.

In the meantime, maybe we can all try to find more common ground. Even if it’s just our shared interest in Italian food, our appreciation for old cars or our love of the Kansas City Chiefs.

♥ Lois

P.S. I’m linking up this week with Sweet Tea & Friends, #tellhisstory, InstaEncouragements, Recharge Wednesday, Let’s Have Coffee and Grace & Truth.