Facebook Memories

I have a love hate relationship with Facebook, especially with the daily memories that pop up in the feed first thing every day. I remember when these first started showing up. I loved how they reminded me of things I had forgotten. These memories were normally something cute or funny about the kids, or maybe a vent about a frustrating farm or parenting day. Most, in hind sight, would make me laugh. Sometimes, they left a bittersweet feeling that the kids were growing up so quickly.

The last year Facebook memories are like walking through a mine field. I tell myself I should turn them off, but I am drawn to them. Some still bring warm fuzzies, but so many are laced with the pain of loss.

Did you realize the memories feature brings up posts your tagged in? Tim used to tag me in posts all the time bragging about something I had cooked or done that day. I really did find it embarrassing for him to put that out publically, but deep down I appreciated his appreciation. With him doing this on a semi regular basis, and Facebook pulling from years of posts, posts he tagged me in show up in my memories almost daily.

And there are the pictures. . . This one showed up recently, and I can't get it out of my mind.

Many of my West Virginia homeschooling friends may recognize this event. It was one of the homeschool dances. We were at the 4-H camp.

What I can't stop thinking about is how young, healthy, and happy we look in this picture. We weren't exactly young and it wasn't exactly an easy time for us. It was taken six years ago, October 2010, a few months after my dad died, but before the weight of that had really settled on our shoulders I think, and a few months before Tim's initial diagnosis.

Six years isn't that long. Kids change a lot in six years. Adults don't, but we did in those years. Well, I guess in less than six years. This was taken a little more than four years after the photo above. Yes, we were still smiling, still so much in love. We were to the end, but those years took their toll on us both. When I look in the mirror now, my face seems so much older than this even.

In the midst of those years I didn't realize how hard they were until we were past them. The stress we created for ourselves trying maintain the farm seems foolish now. The juggling of work, family, sickness, and daily life stuff was incredibly stressful, though I would have never said that. I was too busy trying to keep the balls in the air to even recognize it. But I see it in these pictures. I see it in the mirror.

It is hard to tell what I may find when I open up Facebook memories. I probably should avoid the mine field of memories, but I know I won't.