Count Your Blessings

Stack of pictures

My House First Grade Drawing

Siblings by house

Growth chart

GalleryWall

Gallery Family wall

Count Your Blessings.

I pulled the metal sign from the top shelf of the closet, not exactly the place you want your blessings to be stored. I have had the sign almost two years - an item I chose from my parents' estate. While most of my mom and dad's things have found a home in my house, this sign remained unhung and unsung.

Mom had placed the sign in her home above family photos. I knew I wanted to do something similar. The project remained unfinished because the task of choosing which photos overwhelmed me. I couldn't find space in my brain to open the door necessary for the project to take place.

To be honest, in the complicated disarray of grief and loss, I struggled to name the blessings.

On the first week of the new year, I turned to the opening page of my daytimer and found this scribbled note: Do the family photo wall.

Soooooooo,I printed some photos, framed them, and laid them out on the bed. A jumble and a tumble. Similar to my thoughts about the entire thing.

As I worked with the pile of disarray, I counted blessings:

One. The memories stirred from my first-grade drawing Mom had saved.

Two. Siblings. I chose the photo of the four of us standing in front of our family home for the last time.

Three. Grandchildren. In photos. In a watercolor from our daughter.

Four. Love throughout generations.

Five. A record of growth of over thirty years of children and grandchildren.

Six. Beauty found in creativity.

I traced each piece, cut out the paper and tried different arrangements on the wall. (The below image is from Pinterest because I forgot to take photos and there was NO WAY I was going to recreate the process after I threw all the tracings away and had the pictures in place.

I worked all afternoon, trying different arrangements. I had to run to the one-hour photo several times when I changed my mind about photos.

When the process became frustrating, I reminded myself, "Count your blessings."

Blessings shouldn't be stored away in the closet. In the dark. Where nobody sees. When everything is a jumble and a tumble, it is especially important. Blessings are meant to be shared, even when it means sorting through the disarray to frame them.

One by one.