A Well-Loved Photograph

“Something that is loved is never lost.”

― Toni Morrison, "Beloved"

Have you ever encountered a photograph that reminds you that you are loved? Memories, captured photographs or videos, have an almost magical way of transporting us to that specific moment and, with it, powerful feelings attached. Surprisingly enough, the feelings that rush back in aren’t any less real. They are as real and sometimes even as powerful as it was the first time around.

I recently found a photo of an older photograph. It’s a photo of me and my aunt, my mother’s sister. I was probably around three years old. It was my birthday party, held at an A&W restaurant near where we used to live. Please don’t think I remember that moment, or even that general point in time. I don’t. I know these things based on photographs my parents took of me.

There’s something about this photo that makes me feel extremely loved. My mother’s oldest sister, the one pictured here, passed away less than a year after this was taken. So I didn’t really know her. I didn’t have the chance to. I don’t remember her much at all. I didn’t remember this moment at all. But somehow, this photograph transported me to a space where I am loved. A space where someone delighted in me. Not because of anything I’ve accomplished. (At the ripe age of three I’m sure I’ve accomplished a lot.) But to be delighted in because I am. That is some powerful stuff.

There’s something about growing up that wears you down. I’m not sure if it’s time or maturity or fear or contact with other less-than-perfect individuals. Maybe it’s the perfect concoction of all those different things. In a world that measures us based on our accomplishments, our sense of style, our social media posting, our awards, our scandals, and our failings, we often end up measuring our worth based on others’ accolades. Or lack there of. And when we weigh things out, we almost always found ourselves wanting. Like we’re not enough. Sometimes, when the feeling goes unfettered, we somehow believe that we’re not worth loving.

It is universally known that life is a journey. There’s a difference, however, between a journey and a trip. A trip has - bar some unexpected delays - a predictable end, or a return to point of origin ; a journey seems to refer to something that might take a little longer and might change you in the process. In a journey, the trip itself is more important than the destination. Sorry. I digress. So yes. Life is a journey. And sometimes we get lost. Not in the sense that we need a compass or a navigator. We get lost in the sense that we lose ourself or, in the very least, we lose our worth. I’d have to say life does that to you. Between the deadlines and the performance reviews. Between exams and GPAs. Between awkward conversations and swiping left or right. We lose ourselves.

No. No. No. I’m not advocating extracting ourselves from the humdrums. Not at all. Within the humdrums and the frustrations and the stress are moments like these. Moments that tell you how precious you are. How loved. I see them as little air pockets in the tightly pressed existence that is not unlike trying to put on tempered glass shield on your iPhone.

What if, in the span of our lives, there are little moments like this? Moments, unintentionally captured, that remind us that we are worth loving. That we are to be delighted in, cherished, celebrated. Not because of what we’ve done - the good, the bad, the ordinary - but because we are here. What if all we have to do to access these moments is sift through the barrage of photos that threaten to overwhelm our phone storage? Is it a smile? A silly moment? A childhood memory? A random candid from two weeks ago?

Is there a photograph or a video that reminds you of how much you’re loved? What are some of these moments? Would you care to share?