Innocence

Last night I sat at my vanity in my bedroom as I was getting ready for bed. I removed my jewelry and the barrette from my hair, and as I was brushing my hair, my eyes fell to the small framed picture that sits on my vanity. It's my very favorite engagement picture, one that I framed many years ago and have moved around from house to house since then. In it, Ammon is standing slightly behind me, with both his arms wrapped around me, and both my hands are resting comfortably on his forearms. His head is bent down so that it is side by side with mine, and my head is turned slightly toward his. We look utterly happy and confident.

I stared at the girl in that picture, and the boy by her side. I looked at her wide-open brown eyes, at the innocence in them, the untainted joy. I looked at the easy way she placed her hand over his, and the way his arms seem to curl around her shoulders comfortably. The upturn of her lips was genuine, easy, and carefree.

I recognize this girl.

I used to be her.

This girl had no idea, no reason to suspect, how much pain was waiting for her. She had no inkling that in a few short weeks, her beloved older brother would die tragically and suddenly. She had no suspicion that the man beside her, with his arms wrapped so comfortably around her body, would join her older brother in death in only 8 short years. She had no idea the tragedies, the pain, and the agony that she would endure between the moment that photo was taken, and when I sat and looked at her picture last night.

"You had no idea", I said last night, to the smiling girl in the photo, her eyes crinkled with joy. "You couldn't have known how much it would hurt".

"But you'd do it all over again. I promise." I told her.

"He's worth it."