Not a single picture on the walls, or on the fireplace mantle, or the tops of the dressers in the bedrooms, or the tops of the desks, or . . . not a single framed photo or framed and hung photo.   My parents had not taken, framed, or hung a single photo that had to do with their adult lives, their children, or their family.  To this day my adult sis ter and myself are just stunned by this.  How bankrupt could their lives have been?   How empty their hearts?   How limited their minds?   Who were those people?   They don't seem like my parents.   I often say that to my sister:

 

I grew up in a dysfunctional family.  It damaged me for life.  At age sixty-two I am still angry.  But at least I was alert.  I knew things were not right.  My sister lives three thousand miles away so we rarely see each other, but when we do get together we sometimes talk about the lack of pictures.  No photos.

Standing at the front door at age eighteen waiting for the taxi to come and take me to the airport for my trip to college, I traveled with my mind's eye to every room in the house:  the big living room, the dining room, the kitchen, the downstairs hallway, the downstairs bathroom, and then upstairs to the upstairs bathroom, upstairs hallway, and four bedrooms.  Not a single picture.

Not a single picture on the walls, or on the fireplace mantle, or the tops of the dressers in the bedrooms, or the tops of the desks, or . . . not a single framed photo or framed and hung photo.   My parents had not taken, framed, or hung a single photo that had to do with their adult lives, their children, or their family.  To this day my adult sister and myself are just stunned by this.  How bankrupt could their lives have been?   How empty their hearts?   How limited their minds?   Who were those people?   They don't seem like my parents.   I often say that to my sister:

"Who were those people?  They sure don't seem like MY parents."

Like I said.   A dysfunctional family and a lifetime of memories that are hard to deal with.   Could I make a suggestion?   Stop what you are doing now, find a camera, and take a picture of family.   Not for a scrapbook, or to be hidden away in a box of slides, or to be stored in some computer file; but for the top of the fireplace mantle, or a desk top, or a wall.   Do some bragging.   Show some pride.   Declare your love.   Make the effort.   Take a picture.