Five years in the making

Dear Darlings,

Picture days come and go, and come and go, and come and go like waves in the ocean. One departs and the next one rolls gently in. School photos from those picture days rotate in and out of frames in our house. Each year builds upon the next. My office is lined with photos of all three kiddos as babies with their current picture directly above. It’s one of the favorite things about my little space in our house.

In 2012 Zach was a junior in high school, Lucas was in eighth grade and Claire was in sixth. On picture day they all departed, their clothes pressed and smiles ready for the camera to capture their essence of that year. Their photos came back and were promptly put in their respective frames. The following year was nearly the same ritual, but with only Lucas and Claire getting ready for picture day (Zach was a senior so his session was upgraded to portrait day). Pictures came back and I went to replace the old with the new when I noticed something peculiar. And I giggled. The following year Lucas and Claire got ready for picture day and photos came back. I laughed. A blog needed to be written, but Lucas made me promise to sit on it until his senior year. So I did.

This year marks the end of a journey for Lucas and his red, white and blue plaid button down. Or it could even be considered the end of an era, really.

Lucas’ shirt has accompanied him to picture day every year for the past five years. The first time was an accident. From then on, though, Lucas decided to run with it, to let this shirt be his mainstay, his mark on his yearbooks. When he made his pronouncement so many years ago Zach said to him, “If that shirt still fits you when  you’re a senior, I’m going to punch you in the face.” Ah, brotherly love. It still fits and there was not one punch to the face when the senior portraits came back with Lucas in his shirt. Instead this is what Zach had to say when Lucas posted this picture on Instagram…
The story of Lucas and his favorite shirt has been in the making for five years. Five years!
God, I love this crazy, sweet, blond boy of mine and his foresight in turning what, to some, could have been an embarrassing mistake into something so darn memorable.   

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