Today I have the honor of guest posting over at John's place: Daddy Run's A lot, about my perfect children. :) If you haven't been reading John then you are really missing out, so go! Check him out.
Over here, I'm talking about depression and healing.
I've told you before about how I literally lost two plus years to depression. I have huge chunks of my memories just gone. I see pictures and have absolutely no recollection of the event, have no idea what the event even is sometimes. The grief has been overwhelming at times to know that I've missed so much.
But the other day I made the most wonderful discovery: I took a thousand pictures during that time. It's as if part of me knew I wasn't truly connected and was missing things. That someday I'd crave those moments. So I took a bajillion pictures. Even if I don't have the memories in my head, I have them in scrapbooks.
I think taking pictures was my way of participating at that time. Since I had zero energy or want to get up and involved, I become the photographer. Therefore I could sit and snap pictures or just walk around after the kids as they explored the zoo, museums and ordinary daily things. How could I run through the sprinkler with the kids when I had to take pictures? So I remained an observer.
But I have those pictures. I have pictures of everything. That farm trip, the Children's museum, swimming. Silly faces and temper tantrums. I have the memories in concrete form.
This is incredibly healing for me.
And sometimes the pictures bring back the real memories, which an unexpected and beautiful gift.