21 June, 2008

Please smile for the camera and fit into my box

Every year at Christmas we get dozens of Christmas cards with smiling families sitting on the beach, in front of homes, fireplaces and various other places. We say "what a happy beautiful family." But there have been a few times where later in the year we hear of some tragedy--divorce, wayward child, illness and then we are reminded that these are posed pictures and not reality.

But I think we do that in our minds and in the way we view the world as much as we do it with a camera. We have an idea of how something is supposed to look or be and we hold onto that no matter how hard the struggle is for ourselves and often for another person. We want everything to fit inside our little box of life neatly and without complications. I want Christopher to fit inside my box as the preppy dressed son--khakis, buttondowns, needlepoint belts, but he wants to wear low jeans and t-shirts (with writing on them he told me yesterday). What am I afraid of? What people will say--they could say "how could she let him dress like that?" or they could say "good for her for letting him be himself." The reality is that I had a picture of what my son would look like and he's not cooperating because he's not a picture, he's a person with is own picture and box. I can also look at Sarah Katherine and her love of ballet. I never thought I'd have a daughter like her--artistic, creative--where is the child I thought I would have with the long blonde pony tail running down the soccer field? Many years ago I let that go and it's been wonderful. I love to watch her dance and see the pure joy on her face. I don't know much about it but I'm learning.

I think this also goes beyond how people look or what activities they choose to do. This goes down to the heart of people--to who they are. We get uncomfortable when they don't fit into our idea of the world--our little box. We think of family gatherings and having the great big huge extended family together--when it doesn't work we assume there must be something wrong with the people--after all, they aren't fitting into our box. But maybe they're not meant to--maybe it's the child who has grown up and is thankful for his childhood, loves his parents and siblings, but just is no longer invested in the way we think it should be. He wants out of the box or at least to let his head stick out. I think when we try to stuff people back into the box they just creep out the crack at the bottom and we lose them forever.

I assume this analogy can go on and on looking at people's career choices, lifestyle choices, and on and on. How freeing would it be to open our boxes and let people just be in there--to have it spilling over the way my daughters box of stuffed animals is. She loves everyone of them, but some are stuffed to the bottom and don't get out very much; others are barely hanging on but they're there.

Sometimes our picture of life does fit--I am so blessed to have a sister that I can pick up any cheesy card or book about sisters that talks about them being best friends and it fits. But you know what? We had our struggles and I think it fits because we let each other out of the box. We celebrate our differences and relish in our sameness. We are one but different.

I'm not a total idealist and I think there is often grief and pain when our picture changes from what we wanted it to look like to what it is. I have a friend who has two gay sons--I would imagine when they first found out (and I so hesitate to speak for them) but I would imagine there was some sorrow about the grandchildren that may not come at least in the "normal" way. But when I look at these parents look at their children or even just speak about them, there is so much love and joy and it goes back and forth both ways. I want to be those parents.

I have a favorite picture of being wheeled out of the hospital after having Caroline--all four children are in matching smocked outfits. I love this picture, but I realize that it's because it's about me--I am looking down and I felt complete and whole. If I really look at the picture, Christopher and Sarah Katherine are looking away towards something else. Chris' favorite picture of us was taken at a fun studio where everyone wore what they wanted--the children ran and tackled me. There are no straight on shots of faces, but everyone is looking at each other, laughing with eyes full of love. I still love my picture, but why I love it is more clear.

We'll be sending out pictures soon with our new address--look to see if I really could do it--if I really could let the world see my children for who they are and not what I want them to be. In the meantime, I'm going out to buy Christopher a t-shirt with writing on it.

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