There are places in my photo files that I do not visit if I don’t have to. And for good reason. I call them The Folders I Do Not Open and they all took place last summer. In June 2008, our lives began to go downhill and steadily went from a slippery slope to hell in a handbasket.
Everybody has times in their lives when that kind of thing happens, so I get the feeling that most of you know of what I speak.
I haven’t been able to bring myself to look back at any of the pictures I took back then because of all the pain that is still associated with them. There was the loss of my husband’s job of more than ten years, then the promise of a better life with what seemed like a caring new boss. It turned out to be nothing but stress for my husband, however, that had him doing his best to please someone who could never be pleased. His subsequent firing, the day after she and her husband found out that his brain tumor had returned was less than kind. But I digress.
Tonight, for some reason, I accidentally opened one of these files and instead of jumping out like I’ve touched something hot, I forced myself to stay.
And I’m glad I did, because I’d forgotten about these pictures.
These photographs of my husband’s parents were taken a week after we moved to that new life in Pennsylvania. They wanted to come out to visit and see that their son had landed on his feet. And I can only imagine the relief they felt knowing that he was going to be okay, after just losing his job a few weeks prior to this. It would be short-lived, as it turned out, but all seemed well at the time.
I don’t often visit the past. Especially when it hurts. But I’m glad I forced myself this time.
I have always been blessed with the kind of in-laws that are the envy of all of my friends. They’re really great people. And right now, they are the only parents I have.
And I am grateful.
Until tomorrow, my friends . . .
There’s a lot I’m grateful for. How ‘bout you?