The days rush by faster than I can keep up. I try to freeze frame the moments with photos, yet time marches on. My quest for that elusive perfect family photo eludes me. It’s raining. Each drop taunts me from the other side of the window pane. Then there’s a break. The breeze that has been pumping warm air into our state much later than usual sends some blue sky our way. The Photo Shoot is back on! We rush to the car giving specific instructions to the kids.
Don’t get dirty.
Don’t tackle your brother!
Someone is missing. Do we go back? Do I test the limits of my family’s patience? My heart breaks a little to think this could be the last chance to include him. His last walk in the woods. His last run through the tall grass. I remember fondly his love of tall grass. He used to be so agile in his younger years. Spunk. Life. Energy.
It’s at least worth asking him if he wants to come with so I use the voice that is undeniably directed at him. He barely lifts his head from rug that holds just as much of his hair as his fury and increasingly bony backside does. I wave the leash that used to send him into a frenzy but is now just a hunk of nylon cord wound tightly in a case of blue before his face. "wthumph" His answer echoes throughout the house when his head drops back to the floor.
Inside a battle rages on. He’s part of the family. Then why don’t I pay more attention to him? He should be there. Then why do I brush him aside when he gets underfoot? It’s important to include him. Then why do I hardly acknowledge him some days?
Rainclouds are threatening again so I tell him that we’ll be back and rush out the door. Pleading and bribing ensues as I attempt to nail down the two older ones who I swear where hooked up to a sugar IV while they waited for me in the van. Somehow we manage to eek out a few frames from my broken camera.
I decide to press my luck. We trek deeper into the woods, using the exact same spots I’ve used for other families seeking that perfectly posed family photo. This time I’m not the one behind the camera. Elsa starts to cry, then calms down when she hears the rattle my mom thought to bring along. We eek out a few more frames before the camera freezes up again. Did we get it? Is there at least one that we can call a keeper?
The more people in the shot the harder it is.
The more I want it, the harder it is to achieve.
The more I want time to stand still, the faster it goes.
Like the leaves on the trees this year that hurried through their transition from Summer to Fall. Life is like that I guess, we tell ourselves to slow down and enjoy the moment. How does that saying go? “It’s the journey, not the destination…..”? The leaves will fall. One by one. Moment by moment.
Most of the leaves in our pup's life are mere whispers in the wind, but our sweet babe here has a lifetime of leaves left. So far they are as beautiful as she is.
If you were expecting to see evidence of our photoshoot I’m sorry to disappoint. Christmas is coming and there’s this little thing I like to design called a Christmas Card.