SAY CHEESE

‘Say Cheese’

Pictures don’t lie!

Angi, a 38-year-old Executive loves her job, garden and husband is confronted with a life dilemma. To put it mildly, she’s screwed. Nothing has prepared for what’s happening. An emotional horror story is unfolding. She feels black and blue all over.

Her 17th anniversary is tomorrow. Her husband, her partner in life and love, is M.I.A.  

She hasn’t told anyone about the missing man because she can’t. “I’ll say something when I must, eventually,” she tells herself.

What will she say? 

Ten days earlier:

“Hi . . . I’m home,” she said after a long workday.

“Hello?” She shouts again. No answer.

His car is in the driveway, and the house is undisturbed. ‘He must be out back,’ she thinks. ‘Working in my vegetable garden is one hobby that keeps him sane,’ he often tells his friends.’

She changes her clothes from work-a-day to comfy shorts, starts dinner, and throws in a load of wash.

She plays music and pours wine before she goes to the backyard to say hello to her mate.  

He’s not there. She thinks, ‘He’s probably delivering vegetables picked from our abundant garden to neighbors.’ She begins watering her thirsty roses and feels the day's tension start to leave her muscles.

“I need a quiet weekend,” she thinks.

Another 30 minutes slip by, and she wonders if she should call him on his cell phone and ask how he feels about BBQ.

Two hours later, his cell phone was found on his nightstand. The battery is dead. Angie wonders, “What?” . . . “Why?”

Trying to find answers to her dilemma—a missing husband—a nightmare reality after a long, tiresome week—she goes through their photo album, attempting to find clues. She has called his workplace and friends and even visited the places he frequented, but all in vain. The only thing left is to revisit their past through the photos taken together.

She should call the police, his parents, sisters, friends, workmates, or neighbors and tell them, ‘He’s not here!’

She was always aware of something missing in their photos. His demeanor in the photos seemed oddly ‘distant’ and vacant. A person gone, who looks uncomfortable, stared back at her tonight, and his aloofness appeared to dominate each photo. His absence from the photos was not just physical; it seemed as if his essence was vacant, deliberately missing from their shared memories.  

“I’m just not photogenic,” he always joked when they looked at the photos received from family and friends. Or, he was absent when picture taking occurred. “I was in the bathroom,” he would explain why he was missing in the family pictures.

These moments always bothered her.

Is a picture worth a thousand words? What’s missing? Sitting alone in the dark, she wondered again, ‘Why?’ and ‘What?’ Could the answer be hidden in these photos?

When she remembered her photography classes, her instructor's words rang repeatedly in her ears: “The camera doesn’t lie.”

Body posturing, head angles, and eyes speak volumes. She always felt it was a matter of time before their marriage would end. Something was missing. 

             Unable to have children, unshared faith, and different life experiences interfered with their ‘happily ever after.’

            A week passed when she finally broke down and confided in her best friend.

“Something is very wrong with me . . . well, with us,” she began, her voice trembling with a mix of fear and confusion, a disorienting fog clouding her thoughts. Her emotions were palpable with uncertainty and dread settled around her.  

“Our anniversary dinner was never celebrated because he never came home. I’ve called his job and lied, saying, ‘He’s sick.’ And, the more I say it, the more I fear it might be true,” she confessed, her voice quivering with fear. 

“He hasn’t contacted his employer, his family, friends, or our neighbors. What they know is nothing from me. The garden is very thirsty. I don't have the heart to go outside and water. His space is vacant. The only thing I’ve done is sit and stare at photos taken throughout our marriage. Each is a painful reminder of his absence then (emotionally) and now (physically). They are a testament my years of loneliness and fears, a small reflection of my increasing isolation and despair over our marital life.

Finally, a missing person report is filed at the local police station. Boxes occupied the entryway of their home from his office. Co-workers brought them over. They are unpacked or moved. She walks around them daily. His parents and siblings call often. Their bank accounts are intact; there have been no changes, except he is missing. Everything is the same from the outside looking into their world except the vegetable garden. It is sad, lonely, bewildered-looking, and neglected like her. 

Betrayal comes in many forms. The heart is treacherous. Her life feels like she is treading water. She’s not moving forward. There is no closure. She is walking dead. Vacant, sad, and detached are her everyday feelings. She feels a mix of anger, confusion, and deep sadness too, unable to comprehend the sudden disappearance of her mate. Her life has changed, leaving her feeling emotionally and physically distant and disconnected. The betrayal she feels is not just from her husband's disappearance but from the life they had built together, now shattered and unrecognizable. It feels artificial . . . phony.

The stages of grief have begun to kick in. Time takes time. She is stuck in limbo, unable to move past the denial and into the acceptance stage. The lack of closure and the uncertainty of her husband's fate keep her in a perpetual state of emotional turmoil, a storm of emotions that she struggles to navigate.

“It would have been better if he died.” she cried to her sister. “There is no closure with a missing person. I feel as if he is alive somewhere. I just want answers!”

The photo of a family on Facebook jolts her world a decade later. The child is almost as tall as the man and looks like him. The woman is tan, slim, and smiling. The man gray-haired, in shorts, and happy looking. They are doing a group hug. He is in the middle. The woman and child’s heads are leaning into him and touching his shoulder. He is definitely in love.

    A happy family picture.

Mystery solved! 

Photography says it all.