The Gallery of My Life

I walk through this gallery of my life. My hand reaches out. My fingers tenderly glance over each photo, each memory. I’m here to reflect on the joy in my life – this was my assignment. “Go into your mind’s eye and take stock of your greatest moments of joy. Whatever they may be.”

I see the first time I held Dia. A girl! A girl! I couldn’t believe it, nor could I reconcile why that fact made me so happy, but here she was. And she was perfect and she was whole and so was my love for her.

I see the night before she was born when Tim, speaking for a stuffed moose as if it were a puppet, had Cheyanne and I in stitches with laughter so uncontrollable that I'm quite sure it was what brought on my labor.

Oh - and there's a good one! A similar night – the formal night on our Alaskan cruise - where Tim commandeered a plush chicken and a towel that was craft-fully folded into a frog. With his quick wit and tremendous silliness, he rendered us all useless and in need of a new coat of mascara before we could proceed to our fancy dinner.

I laugh out loud as I see the day Cheyanne brought the first real belly laugh out of Dia. Dancing and singing "Ain't No Other Man" like a crazed lunatic while Dia, just 3 months old, laughed louder and longer until we were afraid she’d start crying or lose her breath.

I see the night in New Orleans when Cheyanne came back to the hotel room with a Huge Ass Beer she'd purchased on Bourbon Street and, without hesitation, the photo op shenanigans ensued. 

There is the time in the Chimney Rock house with its ridiculously large kitchen. Tim, Chey and three ridiculously large stuffed animals and I had a dance party to "Upside Down (Boy You Turn Me)," dancing and spinning the animals upside down and back again and managed - somehow - to make it through the entire song on our feet despite the giggles that weakened our knees and tendered our bellies.

And as if I'm watching a video play, I can see me dancing with an infant Tim in the living room of my first house. I can see the smile in my heart and can feel the start of the deep crinkles that would impress the corners of my eyes from that moment on.

I see one of the moments those wrinkles deepened. Peeking down from my pile of homework, I see a wee Cheyanne sitting at my feet, cheerfully drawing circles around the three holes in my binder papers and delicately singing "bop, bop, bop" with each circle. 

Oh and there's the time I took her to school with me! Sitting carefully in the back row so as not to disturb the other students with my child, she busted out in innocent childhood laughter as my social psychology prof displayed a film of kangaroos fighting. The entire class went silent and then, almost in unison, began to laugh along with her. The prof's only comment as he laughed along: "That was the correct response to what we just witnessed. The rest of you are far too serious." 

The gallery continues through parties and Thanksgivings, through every single Christmas we've ever had, through Must See TV nights and Fridays out to dinner. There are Momma days and Hotel Nights. There is the day at the Dunes and a hundred more at the beach. There is the fireworks display where the cardboard from the blown rockets rained down on us and the Fourth of July where Tim, as a toddler, exclaimed "Ooooo! A gween one! Oooooo! Another gween one!" (and I have never viewed fireworks the same since). The walls are covered with photos of picnics and Easter egg hunts, roller coasters and theme park rides and the crown moulding is a ticker tape of shared inside jokes and obscure lines from movies.

It is a wonderful display - all these memories - and it's difficult to pry myself away. Tearfully, with a bittersweet tap, I place a tender kiss on each one before I return to the world outside.

As I exit my gallery, I begin to assess. I can easily think of a million times I've smiled, been proud, loved or was loved. I think of my friends and all the people who have been angels on earth to me. I look back on a life of incredible luck and beautiful souls who have crossed my path at the exact right moments. I love so many and am grateful for even more. When I started out meandering through my gallery, I thought I'd see the time I actually scored a goal in soccer. I thought I'd see the moment I finally got that title that deemed me legitimate in my career. I thought I'd see the sweet words or a tender moment with a lover. I thought I'd see one of the baseball games or concerts that I've attended. I thought I'd see me independent of anyone else. Instead, all the pictures had my children in them because that was the assignment. I was to view my greatest joys. After all - in my life - there has been no greater.

I don't know why I'm compelled to share this. I have no sweeping conclusion or lesson to share. I guess I just wanted to thank God and make it public. I know I am so blessed. I love to laugh more than anything else and these three have kept that a constant in my life. So ... thank you.

"I can't say what I might believe, but if God made you he's in love with me." 

Five for Fighting