Polaroid Snapshot

"Imagine if someone had handed us a Polaroid of this ten years ago."

My family has often used this rhetorical toss-out to lightly reference the passage of time, the way things have twisted and turned in ways we could haven't explained five or ten years ago.

(I'm not sure why we always refer to a Polaroid.  I suppose we could have lent our illustration into the 1990's.)

For example, when my brother was in the high school marching band, and I, the college student, was waiting tables and racking up tips on a Friday night, my boyfriend (Robb) and Rob's girlfriend (no longer) went to see the football game and halftime show with my parents.

So, there were my parents, bundled under blankets at a football stadium, seated with two young adults who were apparently their companions, but who belonged to neither each other nor my parents.

"Imagine if someone had handed us a Polaroid of this ten years ago."

Who were these two young adults?  Where was Rob?  Where was Tricia?  It would have been sketchy to piece together.  But that's how it went.

A similar scene popped up this week.  The boys were in bed; my mom was away teaching her post-graduate course; I was reading in my chair; my dad was sitting by himself in the kitchen, eating chips and salsa.  We barely spoke.

"Imagine if someone had handed us a Polarod of this ten years ago."

Where was my mom?  Where was Robb?  Why was my dad hanging out so late at my house on a Wednesday night?  Why wouldn't we sit together?  Why would we have our backs to one another, and still verbally discuss the day over our shoulders to one another, using as few words as possible?

It would have been tough to explain or imagine.

But that's how it goes.