"You know," she said, "there wasn't a single picture of him at his work." And K was right. We left the memorial service for a dear friend's husband discussing the kind words from the priest, the twenty-one gun salute, how beautiful "Taps" always sounds as it glides out of a bugle, and the sadness we felt for our sweet friend and her family. But mostly, we talked about the slide show of photos on display. We saw old black and white snapshots from his childhood, their wedding, family vacations, grandchildren, reunions, and even candid stills of their beloved dogs. In the constant stream of memories, not one image showed him working.
Less than a mile from the funeral home, the topic of conversation began to turn back to the responsibilities and expectations waiting for us when we all returned back to our schools...the assessments and meetings and paperwork and millions of other tasks that seemed to fly in an unending stream what often feels like busy-work. "That's not in my slide show," someone said. We all laughed, but then the car got very quiet. I don't know about the others, but I began thinking about my own slide show...the people and places and events most important in my life.
The images and poignant words swam in my mind all week. And yet, on two separate evenings, I found myself at school many hours after the final bell. While some might say that I quickly forgot the lessons learned that Monday morning, I can say, without a shadow of a doubt, those two evenings WILL be in my slide show. The work accomplished in those hours will soon be forgotten, but the people will remain. You see, I am blessed beyond measure to have a family that supports me no matter what, but they are physically too many miles away for the daily interaction that this people-person craves. As a transplant to Northwest Arkansas, I rely on my friend-family to keep me going on a daily basis.
Between my blood-family and my friend-family, my slide show gets longer and fuller each day.
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