ATMA: the picture develops

HAPPY BIRTHDAY, DADDY!!

My father was a man that liked to capture the special moments in life.  He always had a camera and was always taking the worst candid shots of everyone around him!  Dad, really?  I wasn't ready for that.  At least give me the chance to pose properly.  But that wasn't him, he wanted the raw essence of the moment, there was true reality in each of his pictures.  So when you look back, you remember the feeling you had because it shows.  I never got that until now.  The memories I have of him are the candid moments, not the moments where he paused and smiled for the camera (except that picture in that hat - smh - too cool for school, Daddy)...but they are the times where he laughed from his belly, the hugs that took my breath away, him walking past me and hitting me on the shoulder just to let me know he recognized my presence, the loud singing from his office totally off key, his genuine affection toward any and everyone and the countless other nuances that you never pay attention to and can never forget just the same.

Before March 8th, I could've never imagined life without my father.  It's like imagining life without an integral part of who you are.  You can't imagine being yourself without every single piece of what makes you you being in place.  Yet, this is my reality.  

I remember when I decided to move to New York.  My father said, "Are you sure that's what you want to do?"  I said, "Daddy, if you're scared for me to go, say you're scared...it's okay!" He smiled and said, "I'm not scared.  I'm proud of you."  My smiled reached clear across my face! That was the first time in my life I remember my father saying he was proud of me.  And everything I've done since then, has been to continue that tradition.  There was just something about that pat on the back that made me feel like I could take over the world.  It's like nothing was out of reach, and that's how I've always lived my life.

The day my father passed, it's like someone took a new Polaroid snapshot of my life.  You know the second the picture is taken, you can't see anything.  You don't know what the actual picture will look like for some time.  In the process of waiting for the picture to develop, you shake it and shake it and shake it.  That's exactly what the last almost 6 months of my life have been like.  Like God picked up my whole world and began shaking it.  Things that have always been in place began to shift, emotions that had been buried became uncovered, people I hadn't seen in a while began showing up, plans that I had in mind were forgotten....everything that I knew to be clear... became blurry.  So what do you do when your world is unsteady?  When you feel like you can no longer stand...you simply kneel.  And watch what happens.  Remain still and watch the comfort you begin to feel.  Right at the moment when you feel like you're falling...you feel a hand in the small of your back...you feel a grip on your arm...and you feel a shoulder under your head.  In the midst of the instability that had become my emotions, while I was waiting on my picture to develop, God sent his angels to help me, to hold me, to save me.

As I think back today in celebration of the life of my father, I smile.  I actually thought today would be difficult.  I dreaded the emotion that would come with celebrating him on his day knowing he wouldn't be here to cut the cake.  But I prayed all week for strength.  I prayed that my father was in a better place and I got the answer from God that all is well.  He is smiling, listening to jazz, and there with his mother and the rest of our loved ones that have passed on and he is celebrating. With each gentle breeze I feel today, I know he is cutting the cake and blowing out candles.  And with that, I am at peace.  I will inevitably shed a tear, but I won't be sad.  I won't be discouraged.  I will be uplifted because the hand in the small of my back, the grip on my arm, and the shoulder underneath my head... is that of my father.  It is now intangible, but it is no less real to me.  God put that in my heart today and for that I am grateful and able to celebrate my father in happiness for all that he gave me.  For all that he made me.  And for the life and times I had with him in all of his awesomeness!

So what do you do after the morning after the picture develops?  You look at and smile seeing a consistent reminder to live in the raw essence of the moment.  Don't let your snapshots ever be posed or paused. Continue living each minute of your life fully so every time you look back at a captured moment, you feel the power and the heartbeat shining through.  It doesn't matter if the moment is happy or sad or even reverent...let the moment be as vivid as it needs to be without regret.  That's how my father lived and that's how I will continue to live.  So each and every snapshot of my life will be real.  Candid.  Truthful.  And I will not have trepidation going through the process of development - for I have been shaken and I survived.

This Polaroid is for you, Dad.  I love you and I appreciate the life you lived for me and the family. We love you and we celebrate you today and always! MUAH!

Arnold DeVelle Davis 

August 29, 1947 - March 8, 2014