One of the great and eternal privileges of parenthood is the authority it bestows upon us to embarrass our children. We are greatly assisted in this endeavor by the existence of old photographs. You parents out there know what I mean...not this new crop of digitized, perfectly framed, edited, posed and photoshopped things that people call photos today. No, I’m talking about the old 35m click and hope photos from the old days. You remember, right? One of the kids would have a birthday party and you would take an entire roll of shots, drop them off at the Kodak booth, wait a week to get them back, only to discover that half of them featured junior picking his nose.
I bring this up for two reasons. First, Pam has been tasked with gathering pictures of our son from his youth for use in a rehearsal dinner slideshow at his upcoming wedding. Secondly, today is Patrick’s birthday. I have spent a large part of this morning combing through several Creative Memories picture albums that my wife lovingly and creatively assembled back in the day. To do such a thing is risky business. Part of you is delighted by the memories and overcome by the realization of just how wonderful has been your life. But another part of you becomes plagued by longing and nostalgia for a time which is gone forever. Photo albums will do that.
But, here are a few of my favorites where my son is concerned...
It’s hard to believe that he was ever this small.
This was from one of the Dunnevant Beach vacations. Some nights, after the kids had gotten their baths and put on their t-shirt jammies, we would take them down to the beach and turn them loose, making them promise not to get dirty. If ever there was a better feeling than watching them run on the beach, I can’t imagine what it was.
Actually, maybe it was this...a cup of hot chocolate while watching the sun set on Webb Lake in Maine.
This was one of Patrick’s Halloween costumes, probably hand made by his grandmother. He was Tigger this particular year...bouncy, trouncy, flouncy, pouncy, fun, fun, fun, fun, fun...
He is a fully grown man and I am very proud of him. But, for me, a part of him will always be the little boy in these grainy photographs.
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