Monday, April 19, 2010
A few weeks ago, Sam dragged out our old manual camera that had been tucked away in the back corner of his closet for the last 5 years and developed a few rolls of film that had been hidden in the case. The pictures were mostly of one of the two summers we spent at my in-laws' property in northern California, the summer Sam's mom lost her battle with cancer. I immediately began crying as I thumbed through pictures of 2-year old Jackson getting a haircut from his grandfather, Jackson standing in only a diaper with his toddler belly bulging, one of an infant Alex smiling on my lap. Do all mothers have this feeling when they look at pictures of their oldest kids as little ones? I'm thinking my visceral reaction may be because although I did fine going through it, in hindsight, this was a fairly overwhelming period of my life being in law school, having two children 19 months apart, and witnessing my mother-in-law's terminal illness.