Because Ren is leaving us from Wednesday to Saturday. I'm saddened by this. So this is for her.
Enjoy!
Snapshots
An empty box sat next to the dusty albums of photographs. The word snapshots was written in barely legible print, yet the inside held nothing that its name declared. Instead, words were found written inside. A smile came to his face as the memories flooded him, and he preferred that box to the multitude of photos shoved between the pages of the albums next to it.
He grinned when he read the first word. Marriage. While it wasn’t the first memory written inside the box, it was still one of the most important ones. They’d chosen to have a small wedding; no press and family and close friends only. The guest list was extremely short, and not many had remembered to bring cameras. The last camera of the batch ran out of battery power long before the happy couple had a chance to say their vows and kiss for the first time as man and wife. It was a sad moment when the two realized they had no pictures of their wedding, (except for the single shot of a bridesmaid rushing to her place, or the youngest brother tripping over his own two feet) but the couple got over it, using their combined memories to create a slideshow for their day.
His recollection of that moment was quickly halted when he ran across the next word on the box. Beach. This was before the marriage, and he’d surprised her by flying out for the weekend to be with her. They decided to go to the beach; a spur of the moment decision, but as she lived less than ten miles away from a semi-private area of the beach, it was a manageable one. His popularity had skyrocketed since the last time he’d been at the beach, but they were left alone for once as they swam and sat along the shore, watching the sun set in front of them. It created a beautiful scene; the rays glistening on the water, the couple hand in hand as they conversed in quiet tones, enjoying the moment. Before they left the beach area, he surprised her with their name in a heart, a cheesy move, but one that brought her extreme joy. He was always romantic and never failed to make her heart fill with happiness with his antics.
Engagement. This caused him to laugh out loud at the absurdity of the memory. They were sitting on the couch, watching a random movie when she turned and faced him. “I bet I could tell you the ending.” She said, her eyes bright.
“You’ve seen it before.” He replied, his hand finding hers and squeezing it. “It wouldn’t be fair for you to tell me and act like you guessed it.”
Her smile never left her face, and she admitted he was right. “True,” she said, “but then you can tell me what you think about what the guy said.”
“Okay go for it,” he said, all attention on her instead of the film.
“He asks her to marry him. He has this cheesy line about carrying the ring in his pocket for weeks trying to get the nerve to ask her, but he can never do it. He’s afraid she’d say no, when really, it’s all she’s ever wanted. Cute huh?”
She smiled when she saw his face grow pale, and his eyes widening as he stuttered his response. “I think that’s—I think that’s logical. I-I mean, sometimes you just don’t know.”
“But what’s wrong with taking a risk?” she replied, eyes still on him. Then she grinned as she watched him pull out a small jewelry box, sliding off the couch on one knee. No words were exchanged as she kissed him and nodded yes before screaming and hugging the life out of him.
“That’s not the real ending of the movie,” she smirked after the two had settled down, a ring sparkling on her finger as they sat closely together on the sofa.
“I figured,” he said, kissing her cheek. “how’d you guess?”
“Your brother.” She said simply, and he immediately knew which one. He’d have to buy him that guitar he’d been eying for weeks when he got back home.
As happy as the last memory made him, the next one made him break down in tears. Hospital. After nearly fifty years of being together, forty-two married, she had no recollection of their life. She couldn’t remember his name or her favorite color. She couldn’t remember her age or their song. It was heartbreaking and he found his strength and hope for recovery slowly dwindling as she became the shell of the person he knew she was. Her green eyes looked at him with a mix of uncertainty and fear, something he’d become used to of late. It was so unlike the look of adoration and love that he was once accustomed to, and he found himself even wishing to see her angry; eyes flashing with fury and malice. He visited every day, from the time visiting hours began until they ended. He refused to leave her side, regardless of whether or not she’d remember. He would; he’d remember for her if he had to. It was the only thing that kept him going. The hope that he’d come in the next day, her eyes filled with recognition and love, and it not be only temporary.
With a sigh, he wiped his tear-filled eyes and was tempted to put the lid on the box and walk away; to top the barrage of memories from hitting him like a tidal wave. But two words made him keep going. First Date. They were young, and his celebrity status was just kicking off. She was a small-town girl with big dreams and hopes to be both a writer and graphic designer; but only after she saved the world of its many wrongs. Her spirit and determination to achieve her dreams attracted him to her as they accidentally bumped into each other on their way into a local restaurant. Whether or not she recognized him, he didn’t know, but as she apologized for “getting in his way,” he’d claimed it was no big deal and asked her to join him and his family for lunch. The words surprised even him, and he watched in embarrassment as her eyes widened. She accepted graciously, and he was amused at the fact she wasn’t afraid to eat. She rivaled one of his younger brothers, and he grinned as he watched the two interact. When she wasn’t eating she spoke with him about her ambitions and interests, and he was surprised to find such hope and vitality in someone. She refused to let him pay for her meal, and as she waved goodbye to him and his family, he called her back and handed him his number. She took it with a smile, and he was excited when he got a text message the next night from her.
There were many other words scribbled on the inside of the box, ranging from the cute to the hilarious, to even the unexplainable. But the one memory that he couldn’t avoid stood out like a sore thumb. Death. He’d tried to avoid it when he pulled down the box, but it loomed before him and he knew he had to face it.
Not six months after their forty-third anniversary, he knelt at her grave, tears shedding from his eyes and falling on the ground below him like the rain that threatened to spill from the clouds. Her body had given out due to pneumonia, an easy illness to have when suffering from Alzheimer’s, and he refused to be strong any longer. His brothers and their wives stood around him, watching his agony and pain through tears of their own. She was gone, and there would be no more kisses on the rainy days when the music refused to flow from his hands. No more petty arguments they both would lose, forgetting what they were fighting about when a passionate kiss stopped the bitter words. She was gone forever, and he only had the memories of her to sustain him.
Closing the box, he stood slowly, age causing him to move much slower than he used to. He put the box back where it belonged, looking at it once more with a tear-filled smile. It was his favorite set of snapshots; the ones that were never took but stood out more than the ones in the photo album. They stood as a reminder of what life was truly like when the cameras weren’t around.
“Kevin, are you ready to go?” a voice called from downstairs, and he heaved a sigh as he made his way down to meet his brother. The house was bare apart from the photo albums and box sitting in the closet, and it would stay that way for a few months until his grandchild and her husband could move in. He was to live with his brothers again, and as he closed the door behind him he only had one hope. That the memories in the box could be added with others; that life would keep providing himself and his family members with perfect photo opportunities never to be shot with a camera.
