Oil Life, Happy Wife

Why did I come all this way for him to be gone? What if I hadn't waited so long? Why did I take so much time for granted? What if I had tested just a few weeks sooner? Would it have mattered? Would he have wanted to see me? Why didn't he say something? Why didn't he tell them? I don't regret the life I have had, but I should have been there. All those photos of my sisters growing up...I should have been there with them. I was meant to be there with them in those moments and memories. I have time though, to be with them now, but not with him. Was it really my destiny not to ever have known him? Did I take a wrong turn somewhere and miss my window of time to be with him? I would like to think that his death acted as a beacon of light for me to find my sisters. I would like to think that in some small way I could ease their pain. I would like to think that one day I will know him. All I can hope is that he will be proud.

I am not photogenic. I have spent years dodging people with cameras. And while I love to take pictures, I hate to be in them. I am extremely critical of my appearance. I am a horrible combination of lazy and insecure. I spend most of my time in jeans and t-shirts with a messy bun and no make-up. I just feel that there are many more important things to worry with than my appearance. When my oldest son was three years old, I took him to go see Christmas lights and take a train ride to the North Pole to see Santa. We had an amazing night, and when it came time for his picture with Santa, I had an epiphany. Up until that point, I could count on one hand the number of times I had posed for a picture with him. In that moment I realized that if something happened to me, that would be it. There would be almost no photos of us. He was too young to have any memory of me. So while he was my whole world, there was no evidence of that. What if he had nothing to remember me by? At that moment I made...