PICTURES

About a week ago, we celebrated my dad's 60th birthday. It was quite touching to see people from his church throw together this surprise celebration, even in the midst of the heart-wrenching issues that have resulted from the current building project (a $4 million dollar project I note, as there is another nearby Chinese Baptist church that has just pushed through a $60 million dollar project with not nearly the same issues). Part of the 'program' that I helped with was the creation of a scrapbook that contained empty pages for all the guests to sign and write some impressions/well wishes. Part of my task was to scan some pictures of my father so that they could be incorporated into this scrapbook. I figured that it would be a relatively simple task: sneak through the 20 or so picture albums at my parents' house, scan them, and print them off. As I was going through this task, flipping through each page of captured memories from yester-years, I felt like I was constantly being hit by heavy bricks heaved from a far distance. I guess when you look at a picture, a lot can be said about that exact moment. Particularly when I know that my parents have never been ones to choose to stand in the spot light or express any hint of vanity, it emphasizes more the fact that whatever was captured in this prints are that much more genuine. Every smile is sincere and unstaged, coming from relatively camera-shy people. I couldn't help but notice that, especially in the pictures from 30 years ago, just how happy my parents were. From when they were dating, to their wedding album, to the early years my sister and I were born. Sure, fashion, landscapes and even picture paper quality changes, but you could tell, from their eyes and their smiles, that a deep sense of joy was in their possession. I try to guess what the exact thought was going through my mom or dad's mind at the moment that the picture was snapped. I can only assume that, despite some of the stresses that come with being a young couple and establishing themselves in a foreign land, they somehow found a way to overcome it with joy, with each other. Oh how I miss having thoughts that are happy go through my head/heart.

A couple days ago, I was back at the condo, doing my routine "pick up the mail and water the plants". I also wanted a place to park before going on the sandwich run. Given that it seems a little closer to the point where a certificate of divorce might be signed, I realize that the marriage license is a necessary document to have in order to complete the procedure (oddly, you need to prove that there is a marriage before you can prove that it doesn't work). I knew that the license was still at the condo. It was buried in the box of wedding stuff. As I found the manilla envelope containing this remaining 'recognized' symbol of my marriage, I couldn't help going through some of the other things in the box: receipts for the DJ, the cake, the pictures... There was a scrapbook (strangely, not unlike the one that was created for my father) that one of Katherine's friends had given to us as a post-wedding gift. In it, were 4 by 6 black and white prints. Unlike all of the other wedding pictures, these were all candids, and they were all well framed. Which means that they successfully captured a lot of the emotions and feelings of that exact moment. And seeing as they were candid shots, I probably didn't even know that they were being taken; again, reference to the sincerity of the moment. And, flipping through this scrapbook, I can confirm something that I've thought all along: my wedding day was the happiest day of my life! When I got to the end of it, all of a sudden everything was quiet. It was as if all of a sudden, all external noises were shut off, kind of like what it was like during the black out last year (you don't notice background noises like fans and traffic and ground hum until they're gone), but this was the internal noises. It was like my brain stopped its usual jumbled mess of busy thinking and every thread of my being just stood there in silence, united by one strong emotion. I'm pretty sure it was grief because I started crying...