Photographs

I look through the pictures I have running on that slideshow on the left side of this blog, and as I’m watching them, it suddenly hits me that there are very few pictures of me and Emily as “grown-ups”. (haha). In fact, a lot of the recent pictures of Emily I swiped off of Diana’s facebook photo album thingy… simply because I just didn’t have that many of her that were taken recently. And I look at the photos of us wearing goofy sunglasses, or reading a book together, the first day of school pictures (including the infamous purple period… seriously Mom... Why did you let me out of the house like that!? :) all moments in everyday life capturing two little girls who were inseperable. I miss those two little girls.

Both Emily and I always claimed to hate having our picture taken. Well- that isn’t entirely true. I don’t hate it as much as I let on. And based on the endless pictures Emily took of herself, I think it’s safe to say she wasn’t as camera –shy as she pretended to be either. I don’t know who we were trying to fool- doggone it, we were cute! :)

Before all this happened, I sent Lauren and Rachel all the pictures I took from our week at the beach. When Lauren e-mailed me to tell me she had gotten them, she said the only problem was that there weren’t enough of me. Well, I’ve made a promise that from now on, never again will I fuss or complain about having my picture taken. I’ve learned just how precious a photograph can be.


I wish there were as many pictures of Emily and I now as there are from when we were little. But the photos really tell alot about us as sisters. In a weird way, I remember two very different Emilys. There's the little sister that followed me everywhere, that wanted me to read to her constantly, that sat in my lap, that put up with my bossiness and did what I told her to do with that goofy smile of hers. Then there's the little sister that was mad at the world, and hurt and struggling with depression, who suddenly didn't want to follow me everywhere, that could read on her own, that didn't want to be in the same room with me, let alone be caught dead sitting on my lap, and who told me where I could take my bossiness and stick it. That goofy smile came out alot less frequently. I think that's about when the pictures stopped. I wish I had tried harder to understand what she was going through, maybe it would have helped me understand the disease that so changed parts of her personality. But underneath all the anger and struggles, that goofy grin was still there. I see it in alot of Diana's photos. I just regret that it wasn't me anymore she was grinning at. And it's as much my fault as it was hers. And there were still those moments every once in while- just not as many. We were getting there. We were trying to meet each other on common ground, and I think both of us were starting to forgive the other. For that, I'm thankful.

So I cherish my photos- the little sister that drove me nuts, who was at times my best friend and my worst enemy. I cherish Diana's photos- the ones that show that even though I didn't always see it, she still was that same little sister. It's just that sometimes it was a little harder to find that goofy smile. But it was always there.