The week after Lauren died, we were scheduled to take a
family photo, at the church. My first thought was to cancel. How could we go
and sit for a portrait that Lauren was supposed to be in, without her? Our faces were still twisted with grief. Our eyes were swollen with tears. Our hearts
were bursting with pain.
Something inside told me to go through with the portrait.
It was the new beginning. It was the four of us together, holding our heads up,
and smiling through our pain. We were the Rodneys, and we had an appointment to
take a family portrait.
We all got dressed that morning, and walked over to the
c.y.o.. We signed in, and waited our turn, among the other church families. I wore
a frog pin to represent Lauren in our portrait.
Our faces showed our smiles, but our eyes revealed our pain
The portrait was important to us because, it was proof of
our new beginning, to us, and the world. It meant that we would go on, because
we had to. The Rodneys were still the Rodneys.
It took courage to accomplish that milestone so early in our grief, the
first family portrait without Lauren.
Looking back now, I'm glad we did it. I have even come to
cherish the pictures, especially the one of Terry and me. It was our first
portrait together, just him and me. At first, I was sad when I looked at it,
because I could only see the pain in both of our eyes, but, then I noticed something else....there we
were, smiling, and holding each other, during the most painful moment of our
lives. After 20 years, the glue that stuck us together in the first place, was
gone, but we were still here, together.
I look at that picture today, and it is a testament to
our love. Instead of just pain, I also see courage, and strength, and love for
each other, in our eyes. I see hope, perseverance, and the promise of future
joy, in our smiles. We took ourselves, and our children there, as a promise
kept, a Rodney family portrait. It was the perfect way to start a new
beginning. It meant that we had to go on, and we would.
I ordered our family collage in black and white. It hangs
in our hallway, with the rest of the family portraits we have taken over the
years. Sometimes, it's a comfort to look at our sad eyes in the picture, and
realize how far we have come. How much we have healed, and grown closer as a
family, since then.
We were all so brave that day, to walk in there, and take our picture, holding back our tears, and smiling through our pain. I think we all silently accepted the cross of grieving Lauren that day, and chose to move forward with it. We accepted the challenge of living a life of joy, in spite of our pain. Of course, none of us realized any of those things that day, but the proof is in the picture. I see it now, every time I look at it.
T.Rodney
11/14/10