Thawing in Black and White

A black and white photgraph showing myself and my two sisters and brother and all our cousins on my father's side finds me lingering on the emotions around coming to terms with the passage of time. In the picture I am 8, holding onto my sister Ludwina who was 3. It is clear she is trying to evade my grasp. My heart ached seeing us, and in the end I was unable to hold onto her as she committed suicide in Georgia just months shy of her 36th birthday, a victim of bi - polar depression. On the other side of the photograph is my brother, 7 at the time, 58 now. I last saw him at Ludwina's funeral in 1998. He no longer wants any contact. In the bottom right hand side of the black and white is my sister Goedele, looking inquisitive, with my cousin Marc's hand resting protectively on her shoulder. He is 11 in the picture. Goedele died of cancer at age 44, leaving behind an 8 year old daughter and a 6 year old son. The picture also shows, seated to the right of me in the front row, our cousin Mieke who died in a fatal car crash in her mid twenties. The picture beams with smiles the way only children can light up a camera shot. In the chaos of my parents' tumultuous marriage, we lost track of our cousins, and in the last few years I am so happy to enjoy getting to know several of them again. It is that joy that gives the picture, that moment in black and white, frozen in time, hope and dignity. It softens the sorrow of all the loss and makes me feel I can go home again because of my cousins Myriam N. and her sister Nele's warmth and acceptance. What is frozen in time, of loss and longing to reconnect is now thawing with a feeling of warmth and gratitude. I lost the chance to be friends with my father's sisters' children when growing up, and now I have the chance to get to know them as adults. It is a wonderful feeling. The past is gone and cannot be retrieved, but the present can heal past wounds and that is a generous gift, one that adds a touch of sweetness to the salty taste of my deeply hidden tears over the years. I look so much forward to the day I will see my cousins again, and smile with  them, and talk with them and hug them and laugh and cry and get to know their children and grandchildren,and have them get to know my husband and my son, and feel my heart set free, at last.