"Click!...You are on my wall."

My desk area is surrounded by pictures. I have worked for the Federal Government as an Engineer for a bit under 24 years. Time has taken it's toll on my once good taste for decorating my office. I remember days in which since I worked for the Department of Defense, my office was filled with colorful pictures of missiles, and ships, and airplanes of all sorts. Not today, not anymore. Instead of the cornucopia of technological wonders that once graced my walls, now I have pictures of you. Yes, trust me, of you. On one wall of my office space I can count 78 images containing what is now the images of what I truly hold of value in my life. I have more on the opposing wall which probably brings in total more than 100 pictures of family, friends, and all that I believe is important to me.

There are picture of you when you visited me, or when we shared special moments together. Some of the images are just reminders that we will all eventually exit this theater we call life, but even without our corporal presence our deeds will remain in the hearts of all of those affected. I have a wonderful image of my father when he was just a boy, and right next to it another one in which he is holding me as a child, and then above there is one of me with my arms around my own children. What a wonderful way for me to remind myself that life goes on regardless of the complications in which we get ourselves wrapped around on a daily basis. My children are posted in all of the different stages of their lives until present day. Halloween costumes, Easter, Thanksgiving, and Christmas day family gatherings, birthday celebrations, trips to the zoo, and of course the current transformation into rock band stars wannabees.

One of the pictures on the wall only has meaning to me. Anyone who looks at it might even wonder why I would hang an image in which I am sitting next to my kids with a tired, sweaty, yet content expression on my face. Well this one is a reminder that not all scary moments end badly. On that day we had met with some friends to go visit together the new J. Paul Getty Museum at the Getty Center in Los Angeles. This is a wonderful experience in itself full of beautiful antiquities, drawings, manuscripts, paintings, photographs, and sculptures which will amaze anyone who visits. The place is so wondrous that most of the time you must make a reservation in order to access the facilities due to the immense demand by visitors from all over the world. Upon arrival you take a short shuttle ride from the admittance building at the bottom of a steep hill up to where all of the exhibits are located. We had already spent half our day in awe when our appetites took us to the center court where some of the food services are located to buy something to eat. In less than a few seconds we suddenly found ourselves with the terrible realization that our youngest son whom at the time was less than four years old was missing. For any parent this is as close to a horrifying experience as you can ever be in. I immediately ran to where the shuttles were staged for departure of the visitors exiting the facility and return to their vehicles. I demanded that they would not allow a single shuttle to depart without verification that my son was not on board. Security scrambled throughout the whole compound searching for the young boy that was missing. I ran back and forth through as much as the compound as I possibly could questioning guests if they had seen my son and giving a description in case he was found to please bring him to us. Ten minutes went by, then fifteen, twenty, and thirty. By the time forty five minutes had gone by my heart was past panic and already entering into terror mode. Suddenly an elderly lady walks out of one of the museum buildings with my son by her hand. He had left our side, walked into the building, gone up to the second floor, and was admiring the art exposition when she asked him what he was doing there all alone. He replied the typical "I don't know" of a three and a half year old child, so she proceeded to find his parents. The picture on my wall was taken just five minutes after the whole ordeal resolved itself and we were all sitting down in front of untouched hot dogs and sodas. Our faces were smiling, but the perspiration of my forehead told a whole different story of that moment. I must peek at that photo at least once a day while at work to remind myself once again that things are not always what they seem.

All of these images have meaning in the collage of experiences that have formed the many different moments of my life. With each one of them I am able travel in time to my childhood, grade school, high school, college, and many beautiful moments I've had since then. I really have had a wonderful life. I have very little regrets because even the things that I did wrong in the past have made me the man I am today, and really, I am happy with the man that I am today. Of course there are so many things that I could of done differently, mistakes I could of avoided, different paths I could of taken. But who would I be if I would of not messed up so much. This person I would be instead would hold very little resemblance to who I am today.

I think about this because it is one of the things that gets me through the day when I am preoccupied with some of the choices that I see my oldest son making in his life. I suppose that for him to become the man that he needs to be in his future, he probably has to make a decent amount of mistakes today too. This does not take away any of the worries I have about him because I am grounded on today. I am living this moment and I try to not spend too much time worrying constantly about tomorrow, and today is not going necessarily as I think it should. Of course I am worried that he will not be able to get up when he falls and I might not be there to give him a helping hand. But as much as I would like to, I cannot prevent him from falling.

I meant it when I said that you are on my wall. I wish I could show you, share with you the images that I have carefully glued to different boards and then hung on my wall. So many beautiful friends and family members. So many moments of true happiness, joy, and sometimes even fear. Once in a while one of my co-workers will walk in and ask me to tell them what story might be behind one of your smiles, and I proudly go about explaining what meaning you have in my life. Not once has anyone ever questioned the value of your image because I know that they can tell with what I share with them how much you mean to me.

I can say that without a doubt I am most definitely a lucky man indeed. I have been fortunate enough to have shared my life with some of the most loving, caring, and beautiful people to grace this earth. I just think you all needed to know this. Thank you for being in my life.

Dad