A Personal essay:More than meets the Eye

         Looking at this photo, I see my grandparents and myself looking like a happy, carefree trio.
Contemplating, I know what the camera forgot. That within the time span of a second they fooled
everyone who looked their way. They showed that they could be happy, if only for the second it takes
a camera to flash.The camera snags only a second of their time, deceiving everyone who looks at the
photo. Deceiving everyone but me. When I reflect upon this photo I don’t see a smiling couple and their
granddaughter, but a magician's trick of magic. A fool’s paradise tricking our lazy eyes. Focusing
beyond their phony smiles, I see the unhappiness. An unhappiness only family knows. Delving further, I
touch base with a time before my grandparents divorced and reflect upon a love that I know must have
once been there.

         I think simply of all the tricks they show us. The lies we were told as kids, the shouts we only
heard through rumors, and the countless stories told of their not so glamorous relationship. I visualize
the parts my family plays, I think of their lines, and watch as they misstep their part. I watch the
difficulties unfold before me which all deal with those two smiling people. I stand by while their gossip is
dragged across every willing ear, scraping together unwanted arguments in their wake.
Times like this is when, I am subjected to listening and being made to hear all the claims or nasty
things said about my own grandparents. It makes me angry, and fills me with the dread of having to hear all the lousy
things being said about them. Every time I am made to sit and listen, I itch with the feeling of wanting to just stand
up and yell out. I itch to tell them that it is their problems, their dramas, and that I do not want to hear
them because I do not care. Yet I keep silent.

         When my thoughts rush, and my blood roars, I simply just pull this photo out and gaze upon it. I
envision a time before a split appeared between those smiling people­ reflecting on stories told about
them before the divorce and the love they must have felt surrounding them in the beginning of their
relationship. I paint the picture behind my eyelids, and stand back to peer at what they must have
looked like. I bet it was what my photo depicts­ two smiling grandparents happy as can be, with their
small granddaughter posing for the camera. A camera that snags only a second of their time.