Photo Frames of Memories

My mind has been packed lately, trying to process all the elements of grief that have seemingly piled up into what could be about a dozen different blogs. Despite the continual reminders from God and other people to continue writing my story, I still store up thoughts, feelings, and writings in my mind. While I know deep within that it is good for me to let these out, it is often easy to put them on hold – for later or never. Why is this, I wonder? Is it true procrastination, or is it a feeling of shame?  The lines from Hamilton echo in my mind . . . "For shame, For Shame!”

Am I ashamed of my grief? Surely not, yet maybe so at times. Rather, it seems that after all this time and honesty, navigating my grief, it remains an uncomfortable topic. It still doesn’t feel "good" to talk about the sorrow - but it does help. 

This past month, two particular photo sets sent me down memory lane. The first was a Facebook memory pop-up that showed Josh at an Oakland A's baseball game from 11 years ago, stating “Then” next to a blank space with the word “Now.” This annoying pre-fabbed frame taunted me, waiting for my entry. I paused quite a while upon seeing it, thinking of all the things I could put in that space, but knew that no matter what, it would not be a living photo of Josh. Side two would remain empty unless I got a bit more creative or morbid.

The second spark, causing a full-out trickle of memories, came after finding a bargain deal on a graduation frame.

For 5-plus years, I've wanted a frame to hold my KU Master’s Degree diploma. A couple of weeks ago, I found a frame for 90% off. It was intended for another year, but it had an easy fix. It also had space for my Jayhawk tassel, a graduation photo, and diploma – Perfect! Even when purchasing it, I knew I wanted to include a photo of myself and Josh from graduation.

Graduation weekend in May 2019, which also landed on our 17th wedding anniversary, was one of our last adventures before Josh's health fully declined into our summer of sweet sorrow. That particular weekend, we had just returned from the Mayo Clinic and had a whole lot of challenges ahead of us. While Josh's mind wasn't functioning the best, I knew he was so proud of me, and I knew he was slightly cringing at celebrating on the Jayhawks campus (as more of a Mizzou fan). I  wore the same shoes I wore to his DTS seminary graduation in 2010, and it was such a special time. The photos make me smile, and pulling together a small photo collage for the frame brought a renewed joy-filled memory to mind.

This frame now sits in my office at the Grief Center where I work, it seems fitting. A life of new and old mixed together. Getting it situated also triggered many thoughts that I am sure I'll write about...but for now, I’ll try to return the focus back to the "Then" & "Now"

As long as my heart is beating, there will be a then and now. Even when I am gone, for someone else, there will be a then and now to wrestle with. I could say this is for good or bad, but that doesn’t seem quite right. It really is for good or good. Each photo and moment is another future memory to enjoy.

Purchasing the recent graduation frame was a step in accepting the "Then" and "Now." In many ways, it serves as an Ebenezar. A marker of a moment in time that was significant. That spring was a turning point, the graduation of a season and the start of a new chapter in more ways than I would ever know.

This frame serves as a reminder that God was with me then and that he is with me now. If I had a Facebook "Then" and "Now" of God, it would look the same –an image of lovingkindness, mercy, hope, compassion, and more. 

Yes, there are still tensions to wrestle with this whole concept, and there is a lot of space to keep trusting God along the way. Of course, I still miss taking photos of Josh and with Josh.

It might be almost too simple to quote some familiar hymn lyrics, but I can't help but hear them in my head...with this topic.

"Here I raise my Ebenezer; hither by thy help I'm come;
and I hope, by thy good pleasure, safety to arrive at home."

Admittedly, I had to laugh when I went to Google to confirm the lyrics, and the AI prompt at the top seemed to echo everything I am trying to say.

"The phrase 'Here I raise my Ebenezer' originates from the biblical story of 1 Samuel 7:12 and signifies a monument or stone of remembrance, signifying God's help and faithfulness in the past."

Even with the outcome of loss and grief, I know God was with me and that He was and is still faithful.

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