A Life in Pictures

This post might seem like it is just a bunch of pictures.  Or, maybe, it is much more.  You can decide.  Last week, we met my oldest daughter, Kaeley at Lake Sacajawea in Longview so she could take some pictures.  It was a perfect day, with just enough sunshine and light combined with the beginning twinges of Fall.  The pictures Kaeley took captured something special. Something I knew about, but sometimes I forget.  I needed to see it, I guess.  My child is a miracle.

Have you ever seen such unreserved joy in your life?  Every single picture depicts a child who has no regrets or reservations.  She is not wondering what other people think, if they like her, or if her hair looks okay.  She doesn't care.

She looks like she is watching something funny, but she's not.  This is her reaction to life itself.  Every. Single. Day.

Angie loves everyone.  Accepts everyone.  Helps them if they need it.  And she finds instant friendship with all that she meets.

If you have been reading the blog, or my Caringbridge page before that, you know the story.  Angie's prognosis was grim before the surgery that saved her life.  We had to fight hard to keep the doctors from giving up on her.  For most, that is old news.  But for me, it is my daily dose of hope.  My child is a walking, talking miracle.  She had half of her brain removed and she is thriving, living beyond our expectations.

Have you had a bad day recently?  You know the one.  The day when it is 9:00 AM and you already feel like crawling back into bed? The day when your alarm didn't go off, the kids were late for school, there is nothing to make for dinner, the school calls about a discipline issue, etc.  You can fill in the blanks, you know what I am talking about.  I have those days, too, but look at this:

How can I possibly stay down when I have a child who cannot contain her joy about simply being alive?  She has no clue that she has cheated death and it doesn't matter.  She must perform most tasks one-handed and she couldn't care less.  Most daily tasks are a struggle.  But she is beside her self with happiness.  Not just in pictures, in real life too.

She is my hero.  My reminder not to take myself too seriously, and to take time to live in the moment.  She is beautiful, inside and out.

I am thankful for the pictures.  Of course, who doesn't love pictures of their kids?  It is more than that, though.  Seeing them all together, I realize that this is really what her life is all about.  Living every moment fully.  She does not pose for the pictures, she is living.  I would never have written this 3 years ago and it feels so good to be watching this precious child shine.