Healing Through Photo Journaling

In 2001 my world turned upside down. My father died in March and my mother joined him, seven months and three day later. I felt like a little child I wanted my mommy and daddy back.

After three years of living in the darkness of grief; I began going through some photos. Tears instantly began flowing.  I started to put them away; but something inside of me urged me not to, so I focused on each photo. I looked into the eyes of my parents, willing them to speak to me. To my surprise precious moments we shared began, to come alive within me.

I had never made a scrapbook, but I bought an album that same day; and I began filling it with the same photos that reflected the memories of our yesterdays together. I began writing the stories they stirred within me.  Day after day I worked on my album and as the days turned into weeks the wounded child within me began to heal.

It was as if I became a storyteller. With a pen in my hand I began drawing, memories from my heart.  I realized I was the only one who could tell my story. No one else could even come close to knowing the details, or speak of what my eyes have seen; or know of the precious treasures that I discovered living within.

I had found within my heart, a beautiful gift, just waiting to be opened.  I opened it, and soon discovered that my precious memories were so much stronger than my pain. I realized, when I stopped pushing my memories away, and I began embracing them; that I gave them a voice. It was this voice that poured out, onto to the pages, and became the heart of my healing.

With each page completed, with each story written, the edges of my pain continued to soften. Slowly my heart began to trust in the beauty of love again. Each page became a reflection of the moments I cherished. I painted with words, a portrait of who my parents were, and I found away for my precious grandsons, Jakob and Jack, to meet their Great Grandpa and Grandma Jostes, for the first time.

As the pages within my album grew in number so did my hopes and dreams.  I dared to trust that my tomorrows held within them many more joys and treasures yet to unfold. When I was looking out the window, one morning, sipping a cup of coffee, I realize what a beautiful day it was, and a part of myself, that I had believed was buried with my parents, was reawakened inside of me; and I knew that my world once again would be filled with color, instead of the darkness that had become my daily companion. I call this special album, a “Celebration of Life”. 

I never would have thought making an album would have the ability to heal my broken heart; or to hold and preserve my precious memories; but that’s exactly what it did.

Our Journaling

will become

“Our Voice”

which will speak, for us when we are no longer here to tell our story.