Snapshots

Frowns Upside-Down

Lily wasn't like most babies. She looked like most babies, with rosy, chubby cheeks and oh-so-tiny toes and sweet, soft eyelashes, but she was different in that she didn't seem to cry as much. She would pout and sniffle and frown, but the frown always turned upside-down.

When Lily received a tricycle for her third birthday, she tried to ride it without holding the pink handlebars. She fell and scraped her knee. Mother wrapped her up in her arms. There, there, it's alright. She put some ointment on the wound to fight infection. The scrape stung even more. Lily squeezed her eyes shut and bit her lip, wanting to cry. But mother gave her a pretty band-aid with flowers on it and told her how brave she was, and her frown turned upside-down.

On the first day of school, Lily stood in a large classroom surrounded by fellow kindergarteners. Her head seemed to be drained of any thoughts as it was filled up with noise. She felt like she was drowning in a flood of unfamiliar faces and smells, and she only knew half of the alphabet and didn't know how to hold a pencil right. But then she saw a little girl who looked just as lost as she, with bright yellow shoes and a butterfly backpack. She took a deep breath and stepped toward her, and her frown turned upside down.

Lily was nine when she sat in the big leather chair and heard the dreaded news. She needs glasses. She gulped and stared at the long shelves lined with spectacles ready to cover up her pretty face. She could already hear the other girls calling her nerd and four-eyes. But she reached out her hand for a pink pair, and her frown turned upside-down.

You're such a klutz. What a loser. You're not thin enough for that skirt. Lily's ears ached from the never-ending stream of taunting remarks. Her eyes glossed with frustrated tears. She didn't understand why she couldn't be the cool kid, why she couldn't be accepted. But she told herself she didn't need to be liked, that it was okay to wear whatever skirt she wanted. She pushed through the crowd, and her frown turned upside-down.

When Lily received her first report card in high school, her eyes immediately landed on the big, red F. What was the matter with her? Why wasn't she smarter? Didn't she try? Her hand reached behind her glasses to dry her eyes. A letter of the alphabet didn't affect her worth. She would study more often, ask the teacher for help, and try harder. She crumpled the report card like a sad snowball and stuffed it in her pocket, and her frown turned upside-down.

It's over. Her first breakup. It had been another misunderstanding, another stupid fight, and now he was gone. Lily drew her knees up to her chest and hugged them tightly, willing the embrace to fill the aching hole inside her. But then she remembered how happy she was before him, and told herself she would be happy after, and her frown turned upside-down.

Life moves on in a blur of moments being strung onto a long garland of memories; college, a first job, a wedding, a first house, two children. When her oldest son slams his bedroom door shut, she remembers what it was like to be a child in a world full of adults, and her frown turns upside-down. When she loses her job, she tells herself it's an opportunity to find something better, and her frown turns upside-down.

But now she stands alone. Her sons have moved out, there's not much in her savings, and the doctor doesn't know why she has back pain, but she forgets all of that as she stands in front of a grave. A grave that was placed there only yesterday. A grave that has Beloved Husband etched into the granite headstone. She stands in front of this grave, and she weeps.

And her frown doesn't turn upside-down.