This weekend I read on Facebook where a young lady that I
had met one day had passed away. She was young and had three children. Of course following suit with human nature I
was curious about her. I wondered how someone so young had passed and more
importantly, I wondered about her children. I noticed that there were no
pictures of her and her children and this made me sad. I don’t know what her
circumstances were, she was a one-time acquaintance that I made and I didn’t
know a lot about her other than upon meeting her I thought that she was a
lovely person with a sweet spirit about her. The fact that there were no
pictures of her and her children though weighed heavy on my heart.
Later on in the evening I saw where my son had posted this
quote on the social media and tagged me in it. It said “One day, all your
children will have is pictures of you. Make sure you’re in them. No matter what
your hair looks like, your makeup, or your body, they won’t care about any of
that, they’ll just want to see you.” He made sure to emphasize how I needed to
pay attention to those words. I found so much irony in this given the fact that
a few short hours before that I was feeling sad for the children that I thought
had no pictures with their mother.
I started several years ago taking pictures of my children
[to the point that they made fun of me for taking so many], and later on started
doing the same thing with my grandchildren. I was always behind the camera and
for good reason…or so I thought. When my
children were young I had no problem having pictures snapped of us together
because I was, well….young, built nicely and without many of the flaws that
Father Time would later present me with. I wasn’t a bit paranoid, and not
because I was conceited, but because I felt comfortable with me. Over the
course of time, a few surgeries and not taking into consideration that I needed
to eat healthier and exercise, I became that person that preferred to stay
behind the camera. My youngest daughter has asked on several occasions over the
past years when we could do family photos and my response has always been “when
I lose weight.” I would promise myself
that I would get into shape and that in the spring we would take our first
family pictures. Spring became summer, summer became fall and fall became
winter. Still no pictures.
As a society we are extremely critical of people’s sizes and
appearances. She’s too skinny. He’s too large. She’s too pale. He’s got too
many tattoos and she has too many piercings. The list could go on and on of the
imperfections that we can find in people. Because I am guilty of that myself
[and face it, deep down we all are], I am harder on myself than probably anyone
else is. Because of my reflection in a mirror I believe that is who I am. I
believe that my size defines me a person. That self-analysis of me creates the
insecurities that make me so self-conscious. Those insecurities create
boundaries for me that I am afraid of stepping over. I have allowed myself to
become so paranoid over some extra pounds that until I saw what my son had
posted last night I hadn’t realized what I was doing. I joke around that there
is more of me to love. I make jokes about my backside being 3 axe handles and a
butcher knife wide. I try to over compensate for how my body makes me feel by
making sure that I try to balance it out with spending more than I should at
the hair salon, the nail salon or shopping online for new clothes that will
make me feel comfortable in the environment of beautiful women whose
measurements are 36x24x36.
I’m really angry at myself that I have allowed myself to be
defined by numbers. “Numbers” dictate whether your checkbook balances
correctly. “Numbers” decided whether you get a ticket or a warning. “Numbers”
decide how many people will fit in an elevator. “Numbers” matter in more
categories and examples that we can list; but they shouldn’t define us. The
fact that I can’t fit in a size 7 pair of jeans anymore, the fear of stepping
on a scale in front of someone, the excuse that I use for not going to the
beach on vacation – those are the things that we as a society have encompassed
as being more important than the things that really matter.
Sometimes we need something to put things into perspective.
We need to be reminded from time to time that we should not be defined by
our appearance, our size or how we look in any aspect. We should be defined by
what we have to offer and who we are as a person. I’m reaping the benefits of
this lesson learned this weekend and today I scheduled our first family photo
session. I want my children to have pictures of me with them. I want to show
them that memories are more important than measurements and that my smile is
more important than my size.
