I recently came across a photograph that was taken 21 years ago. Â My boyfriend and I were attending the 50th birthday party of his twin aunts, and all the family and cousins and spouses had come together to celebrate. Â I was fairly new on the scene – we had been dating a few months – and this was as much a celebration of a half century birthday as it was my being presented to pass the family sniff test. Â Looking at the photograph there is so much youth and anticipation in our faces. Â Our expressions have this wonderful carelessness – almost a naivete – about them. Â There are no lines of worry or stress or responsibility, just two people having fun at a party.
It struck me that we are now beyond the age of the people whose birthday we were celebrating so many years ago. Where did the time go? Â I can’t really account for it – it has gone by so fast. Â And then I looked closer at the photograph – at our faces – and I couldn’t remember the people that we were. Â What were we thinking? Â What were we talking about? Â What was important then? Â Not long after the photograph was taken, the boyfriend became my husband, then the father of my children, and eventually my ex-husband.
Looking back at that moment in time, seeing the almost willful innocence projecting out from the photograph, I wonder what we would have done if we had known how the future would play out. Â Would we have made the same decisions? Â Would we have paid closer attention to the details and daily minutia that make up so much of life?
Our daughter celebrated her birthday over the weekend. Â A photograph was taken of me, which thanks to soft lighting and a good hair day, flatters me more than it should. Â There is a youthfulness about the picture, but no carelessness or naivete in my expression.
Just as I was 21 years ago, I am on the verge of change. Â Different roads – both personal and professional, emotional and tangible – lie before me. Â Perhaps it’s the weight of years that slows the decision making process; maybe it’s caution born from experience. Â Part of me misses the youthful enthusiasm of plunging into a decision and letting things happen organically. Â Do I know or understand too much now, or did I know or understand too little then?
And I wonder, will I remember who I was and what was important to me, when, 21 years from now, I look at the photograph taken this past weekend?