Years ago, my cousin Shari sent me a picture of my father and me dancing at her 1995 wedding. The thing about the picture is that I never knew it was taken. Another thing about the picture is that it was the only time I had ever danced with my father… and until I laid eyes on the photograph, I could not recall the moment had even existed. It was like I was staring at two strangers.
Had I known this picture was being taken, I probably would have *tried* to fix my hair, and no doubt, my mind would have wandered to what the the picture would end up looking like… All instead of giving my father my undivided attention, adoration and affection… Instead of allowing myself to be real.
This photograph represents a once-in-a-lifetime moment. Every moment is, isn’t it? This particular moment presses hard on my chest, and brings a lump to my throat because not only is it one of the few photographs I have of the two of us as adults, it is the only time I danced with my father in our 24 years together.
I received this image from my sweet cousin soon after he passed away in April 1997. Is how my hair looked significant? I think not.
Do whatever it takes to convince yourself… To BELIEVE… To understand that the camera is not an evil monster spotlighting your flaws, but instead the angel highlighting your life.
If you got this far, thank you… Keep it real.