The Guideposts executive editor shares how family life comes back in full circle.
This is something rare, a picture of Carol and me. In the annals of family photos it’s either me with the boys or Carol with the boys or it’s the boys and their friends.
This one was taken last weekend when we were in California visiting Tim and Will. We were sitting on a rock at the Norton Simon Museum in Pasadena and Tim said, “Let me take a picture of you.” Snap.
Maybe this marks a moment of change. For years the camera was taken out to record those important times in our children’s lives—the swing of the bat and dash around the bases, the blowing out of candles on the birthday cake, the opening up of that long-anticipated box under the Christmas tree. You can just tell by looking at our photo albums, meticulously arranged and catalogued by Carol, where the center of gravity in our lives has been for some 22 years.
Don’t get me wrong. Every one of those pictures feels like a masterpiece to me, ready to put up on the walls of a museum. But then something happened, those boys with their Pirate birthday hats grew up and now we get to be the picture ourselves. Courtesy of them (remember, Tim was the one behind the camera).
It was a beautiful day and the sun was a welcome jolt for two snowbirds. Everything about the picture makes me happy—Carol, the day, the grass, the sunlight.
How wonderful to have two grown-up kids who suddenly want to take a photo of their parents. That they even think about us seems an honor. Snap. There we are, smiling at the photographer with giddy joy.
Rick Hamlin is the executive editor at GUIDEPOSTS.