You told me today that we were having family photos and I needed to dress nice, but when we got there you stood behind the lady making funny faces while everyone looked at me and giggled.
I wondered why everyone was staring at me. You looked so pretty Mom. You still had that tattoo I drew on you earlier, and your hair was a bit tussled from when you tickled me and I squealed with delight. We had a great day. I won’t remember it though because you stood behind the lady taking pictures.
When we got the photos you were so excited. You told me how cute I looked and how big I was getting. I asked to see the photos but they were all of me. I see me all the time, I wanted to see you.
I wanted to see your face when my tiny hands brought you flowers for the first time. I wanted to see your smile as we looked at each other. I wanted to see us holding hands. Mommy? I asked. But you weren’t in the photos, because you stood behind the lady taking pictures.
It’s years later and I’m growing up. I’m packing my things for my new house and you ask me to go through the family photos to see if I want to display any in my new home. I sort through hundreds, if not thousands of photos of me. Not finding any of you. I pass on the photos as it’s kind of odd to display your own baby photos in your home. I would have framed and hung photos of us from my childhood but there aren’t any, because you stood behind the lady taking pictures.