Look closely at this one. Do you see it? It's in the eyes. Each of us has it.
Hope. Peace. A genuine sense of family. Of each other.
It's going to be alright after all.
We'd gotten Dad a new camera for his 50th birthday, the expensive kind. A Nikon. It had one of those self timers. So we had to use it for a picture Christmas morning. A family captured at their best. But for a moment.
We'd been through a lot as a family, and Christmas always represented a time of optimism. It was a season to reflect and refocus. To renew commitments. To realize all over again the value we had in each other as a family. Christmas always gave me hope.
They will be OK.
I've heard it said that families at their best are one of nature's masterpieces. If masterpieces are moments, or mornings, or holidays, this was one of them.
1982. All of us together, back from school and life and busyness, to celebrate Christmas. I like this picture because it reminds me of the goodness that often prevailed in my childhood. When parents break up, when families crumble, it's tempting to always reflect with a sense of sadness and loss. Not this day. This was a good day. This was a good moment. This was me, surrounded by a family I loved and who loved me.
Mom. Dad.
Brothers and sisters.
A family. Intact. Just the way it's supposed to be.
A masterpiece.
