[ Photos of omitted truth ] - The Inkwell Prompt #13

I went to visit my mother 2 weeks ago, and my sister brought out a stack of photo albums, of which I think the newest ones were from the last 9 years. The oldest shots were taken at my parents’ wedding ceremony, the wedding that my mother said she had had no idea of her husband’s name or personality since the history they had got before it was a couples time greeting each other at the market. So my mother got married, according to my maternal grandparents’ wish.

Their wedding day

In case you have read my previous posts, I mentioned that my parents got divorced. And all the photos I was taking a look over were the before happenings. From my mother's first born child as known as my eldest sister, to my second sibling and the last was me. Back then when we were at the middle stages of economic recovery after war, about the beginning years of the 21th century, the difference between poverty and prosperity was not this huge nowadays. Price was not too unaffordable, which allowed the ordinary couple to take their kids to the zoo, to the amusement parks, and to other places in Vietnam.

Parents took my sisters to the park when my second sister was still at her baby age

If you ask me what my last memory of my parents’ marriage was, I would love to say it was “the relentless arguments and unbending doubts, utter disrespect and extreme detestation”. As I remember, during that time, I was always woken up early, not by the alarm clock but by my mother's screams. Actually, I can recall the seemingly happier moments between them provided that I put enough effort into it. However, as I grow up and that euphoric remembrance seems to move backwards, the photos would be the most useful tool to capture the forgotten truth. They were bursting into laughter in the photos, so bloomingly that we will not dare to say they were pretending to be a happy family. We did have precious seconds together, what matters is it happened a really long time ago. Yet, we did. I saw many photos shot of my father’s kiss on his at-the-time wife’s cheek, or mother sitting in father’s lap and her arms around his neck.

I could see my sisters’ smiles, as well as mine and also our uncomplicated infant pupils. The photos included my trip with my parents to our hometown 13 years earlier, when I was so satisfied by family connections tightened in my heart. I was a 5-year-old girl, with smooth black hair and outgoing characteristics with anyone. I was taken photos at the sea, feeling the wind caressing my back and sand embracing my thighs, seeing my parents smiling at me and appearing to be happy. I was a 5-year-old sweetie, got lost in the park’s amusement labyrinth and immediately bumped into my father’s embrace right after I saw the light when the staffman came for help.

I really adore the way the baby me and my second sister smiling back then

The 5-year-old me in the trip with parents, still love that smile

I have never regretted the breakdown of stability in my family, whatever, sometimes it is just the memories dashing into my mind and making me feel an unexplainable sentiment.

My elder sisters said our family had always been like that, but I was too young to see the disturbance buried behind father’s drunken nights and mother’s ruthless complaints. They insisted that the time before my arrival had been higher than happiness, albeit the financial shortage. What a shame I stood no chance for that prime period. My siblings expressed. Pardon me, I have realized that smoldering disturbance after escaping from my care-free childhood. I guess that is a usual thing to happen once we are put into an arranged marriage. Probably, those albums are the most treasurable heritage my parents left for us, they remind us both of the ups and downs in marital life as well as family issues we were, are, and even will still try to go through. They are the heritage of the golden era. And my memory is an old money.

But the past is the past, despite anything you would explain. Still, I wonder whether there is a magic for the fossil feelings to be reborn?

The rocky sensitivity deep inside my heart.

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Have a nice day ahead everyone 💕🌼 I wish you all the bests in life!