My daughter has been posting some photos which I would just as soon didn’t ever see the light of day. It’s not that they’re bad pictures or that I don’t love the people in them.
They were shot either at the hospital where my wife lay on life support for six days or at the church in the luncheon following her funeral. And they all have one terrible thing in common.
We’re all smiling.
I’ve noticed this in photographs our family has made in years past. We would be at the funeral of my parents or a beloved aunt or uncle, and after the ceremonies have ended and people are milling around greeting one another or saying their farewells, someone breaks out a camera and begins grouping us. And without fail, we do it.
We all smile.
I suppose it’s because we were taught from childhood if someone points a lens in our direction, we smile. I certainly ask every person who sits before me to be sketched to smile. Everyone looks better smiling, “including you,” I tell them.
But sometimes, it feels like a smile is out of place.