As I sat flipping through old pictures, I wondered again if I could possibly get all of them organized. A small pile of photo boxes and new albums stood ready by my side should I attempt the impossible. Today I would settle for getting rid of this beaten up shoebox and putting the photos in something sturdier. I saw one last picture, way in the back, stuck in the seam of the box, perhaps trying to hide from me.
I pulled it out carefully so as not to tear the edge or bend the picture. Flipping it over, I saw three faces smiling up at me. I wasn't fooled by the two bland smiles in the background anymore.
The little face in the front with the smile framing two brand new teeth was innocent enough. Drool was just beginning to form at the corner of the upturned mouth. Sparkling blue eyes twinkled as the photographer danced and sang to get his attention. Small children have that gift, they don't have to like what they are looking at to make it look like they do. They are so entranced by anything new that it is wonderous to them. Certainly this face radiated life and promise enough to overshadow the faces behind it.
The other faces, his and hers, both wearing masks with a smile painted on, hovered above the smaller one. They were good masks, but time had made them transparent. The dark wavy hair of his head no longer seemed handsome and carefree - it was pretentious and calculated. The lock hanging over his eyes didn't lend that air of innocence it used to, now it was menacing. The shadow over his eyes almost made it possible to overlook the measuring glare that beamed from them.
Her mask was in place as well, but just as transparent as his. The brassy blond hair tried to look expensive and elegant, but it was just overcolored and overworked, not flattering to her too pale complection. The glint of her earrings didn't make her sparkle, but made her seem even more bland and drained. The wide eyes looked out to pay attention to everything that was going on, to everything that she was supposed to be doing or not doing. There was no smile in those eyes, just a timidness that makes you wonder what she was worried about. The too-red smile was too tense, stretched across her face in response to request, not any actual feeling.
The masks didn't come close to the cheerful caption of "Happy Holidays" across the bottom of the photo. There was no 'Happy' here, it was not a 'Holiday' by any means.
Holding the photo, I looked at the neat stack of pictures destined for the new photo box, where they would be safe and secure. Looking at it one more time, I reached out for the shoebox and carefully, so as not to tear the edge or bend the picture, I put it back where it was before - in the back, stuck in the crease of the worn out shoebox. I slowly placed the lid back on top, leaving the lying masks in the dark.
I have a picture in my mind of a small girl, bouncing down the sidewalk. Her small hand reached up and was swallowed up by a much larger one. Looking up, and up, and up.. she smiled at her granfather's face.
That was me, me and my grampa. I can close my eyes and see a picture of that day, that moment - even though no such picture exists. His face is the first real memory that I can actually sit and remember. I can see the crinkles around his eyes as he smiled down at me. I can feel the leathery skin of his hand surrounding mine, the origin of my thought that warm's color was brown, like his hands. And his strong arms that stretched up and up and up, almost longer than I was tall at the time. He was the opposite to my ivory skin and smooth face - but I wanted to grow up to be just like him.
I'm still short, and I can't get a tan to save my life. But I can close my eyes, and deep down inside, I am still reaching up, holding his hand, wishing to grow up just like him.
Michelle Peters
I wonder where you ended up? How two girls with nothing in common managed to be friends is one of life's mysteries. I thought of you the other day as I sighed - again - about my dead straight hair, and the fights we had about how I thought your unruly curls were much more preferrable. Did you ever really shave your head one frustrated morning?
Kathy Wysocki
Do you know the impression that you made on those young girls? Do you remember the tactful discussions about appropriate wardrobe choices for interviews? Do you remember the girl that wore the strech-pant leggings and t-shirt anyway, and still got the job? You said I was lucky they saw what I was made of on the inside. I remember that everyday, it has gotten me through a lot.
Edwin Hahn III
I kept a teddy bear to remind me of you for years after our friendship faded away. Time and circumstances would have made things turn out very different between the two of us, I think. I'll never forget that waterfall we all hiked to, did you ever go back to find your hat?
