The screen saver has been playing most of a month now. Not all day but every day. There are over a thousand photos uploaded, of our family at Christmas, on the beach, at weddings, in the living room. I recognize them, and yet I do not become saturated with them. Since there are often four or six pictures displayed at once, I cannot look at everything simultaneously, so my eyes travel around. I notice when hair gets shorter, or longer, remember the feelings of that birthday dinner, savor the sight of someone who is gone. Just now, the pictures included three people who are still around, and three who have graduated to heaven.... my mom and John's parents. Yet I am given the gift of seeing, and feeling it all over again. It moves me deeply.

There are times when I am stuck in a loop of less lovely images. My inner ramble repeats a complaint, or imaginary argument over and over and over. A rational person might turn it all off, yet rationality is not my signature quality when I am mired in criticism. 

John has pointed out that we do not take pictures when kids are sparring, or the spaghetti bowl topples on the table. No one reaches for a camera when there is laundry spewed all over the floor, or the kids are feverish. Those things all happened too, and are integral to the story. But it is within my power to replay them. Or not. 

I chose not.