I love photography. At times a photo becomes an instant piece of art. At other times - and this may be the deeper challenge of photography - it creates an instant essay. Unfortunately I cannot claim to have taken this picture, but when I saw it on Facebook recently, I couldn't help smiling at the little thesis it spoke to my mother's heart. (Thanks Robin S, for the wonderful story picture.)
Yes - those are my girls. No, this is not normal attire for them. They've inherited this flair for theatrics entirely from their father. This particular drama was just another one of their sleepovers - which normally include inviting at least one friend over to spend the night (not necessarily sleeping), lots of laughter into all hours of the night, cookie dough and creating some type of video - usually a music video.
Back to the picture. There's the youngest of the three, Tabitha, on the right. First, her preference for being the one hiding behind the camera makes me love the fact that she's now a part of the essay. But what I really love, even a bit more than her priceless expression...is that hat. She has spent the last few years of her life lambasting the owner of that hat, convinced that he was not a worthy suitor for her older sister. However, now that he's finally, slowly, convincing her that perhaps he's not such a bad guy after all...when Tabitha wants to look cool, she wears none other than HIS hat. That is rich.
Next there's the middle girl of the three, Lydia. The sweet little blond who grandma used to call her "Precious Moments" doll. Ask anyone who knows her today and they'll still tell you that she is one of the sweetest young ladies they've ever met. Yet here she is, trying her level best to look "gangsta." At first glance I thought she had pulled it off pretty well. Then I looked closer and noticed, once again, the hat. It's a "Christian" ball cap, complete with a Bible verse and a cross on the front of it, that she's had since she was about five years old. She wore it all the time, back when she had big blue eyes set in that tiny Precious Moments face. Ah well, I suppose that's just a little detail that only a mother would know.
Last but certainly not least, I can't help laughing when I see the older of the three, Bethany, bursting out from behind. Knowing that she creates, choreographs and basically inspires just about every drama that occurs in our home...and knowing her personality (that is so much like her father's) I can almost audibly hear her stance in the background. It says to me, "Okay - you younger two sisters can be the center of attention for a moment, but HELLO - I'm still back here!!!"
There you have it - the photo essay. Not a polished and publishable piece of literature, perhaps...but snippets of my life that I wouldn't trade for the original Beowulf manuscript.
