for as long as i can remember, photographs of Jenny Lake and the Tetons hung in thin, engraved metal frames above my parents’ bed. the photographs looked like postcards – saturated blues and greens, snow caps perfectly etched into the mountains; you could almost hear the quiet of Jenny Lake, and smell the crisp piny air.
my mom fell in love with Jenny Lake in 1970 while she and my dad honeymooned in Wyoming’s Grand Teton National Park. forty years, five kids and six grandchildren later, my parents decided to retrace their honeymoon steps (minus the camping) by returning to the Tetons for their anniversary this past june.
my parents visited us a couple weekends ago, bringing along two photo albums, one of their recent trip, and the other of their honeymoon. it’s been a long time since i’ve seen their honeymoon photos, and i have to say, i am completely enthralled with them – maybe because i’m now 10 years older than my parents are in the pictures or because the warmth of the weathered photos holds an inherent nostalgia, or perhaps, like any kid studying photographs of their parents as young adults, i am struck by the simultaneously strange and familiar faces staring back at me.
they’re in Milwaukee here, just outside my grandparent’s house, about to leave for their honeymoon. mom still stands like this when she’s feeling shy about getting her picture taken – head cocked inward, one hand hiding in the other; my dad still stuffs random pens, paper and other accouterments into his breast pocket, and lots of times, stands proudly, hand on hip.
isn’t my mom’s flower blouse so pretty?
this picture is amazing. and not because of the buffalo in the background.
i absolutely love this picture of mom. i love her red striped shirt and her cute canvas shoes. mostly, i love the way she’s squint-smiling at the camera.
dad feeds a cute little mountain creature.
here’s another pretty one of mom.
dad at Jenny Lake.
a little windswept on the tundra.
i love that mom was taking photos of flowers even then. the woman takes more photos of flowers than anyone i know. i wonder what she does with them all?
mom in a bug.
dad on the trail.
i like the silliness going on in these two pics.
dad conquers the west.
on the back of this photo, in large cursive letters, my dad wrote: “Isn’t she pretty!!!!”
even without the inscription, this one – like most of these photos, feels like a stolen secret between my mom and dad.
sometimes, it’s hard to believe there was a short time when my parents were free from my siblings and i – and i don’t mean “free” in a sigh-of-relief kind of way. once, there was a dream of us. we were only hypothetical kids that would join them some time in the future. but that’s all we were then – faint, pretty dreams.
more immediately than us, there was a dream of the kind of life they wanted to share – the things they would accomplish, places they’d experience, cities they’d live, people they’d change, people who’d change them, houses turned to homes, people they would become, love that would steady and shape. life was vast and bright and malleable. it was theirs alone.
i marvel at these two people who, at this photographic & magical slice in time, are on the brink of their lives.
first anniversary
40 years together… love you, mom & dad!
a few things that make my heart go pitter-patter: drawing, Sakura Micron pens (size 005), pretty things, writing, smart design, science, boots, soup, Gilmore Girls, a knockout playlist, crispy bacon, 
