It Was The Day We Took The Family Picture

I remember clearly the very first day I felt off. It was like a light switch had been flipped. It was Labor Day, 1995. I was 14, close to 15. My youngest brother was only a year old. My baby sister, and the youngest in my family, wasn't born yet. We had the day off school so decided to take a family picnic up to Camp Steiner, a Boy Scout Camp up in the High Uintah Mountains. It was a few hours drive, ascending several thousand feet. The air is really thin at the camp. It takes awhile to acclimate. I always loved those mountains. I spent the first several summers of my life at Camp Steiner. The woods were my home. I loved being outdoors in the fresh air among the wildlife of Utah. And I loved every time I got to go back.

Except this time. Something wasn't right. Something didn't feel right. I wasn't ok. I couldn't smile, I couldn't talk. There was no love and no wonder this time as we drove into the forests. It hurt my heart. All I wanted to do was go home and go to my room. But I couldn't. I didn't want to bring my family down. This was to be a good time, a happy and relaxing day. But, I was sad. And no amount of pretending could make me feel happy. I tried to stay to myself, so as not to let on to anyone that I didn't feel well, and wasn't having a good time. I remember being asked what was wrong and that I should go be with the family instead of sitting on a bench by myself. So I took a walk. I got a little disoriented in the woods, but found a cute little lake and enjoyed being by myself with no pressure to have to act happy when I didn't feel happy.

I remember being afraid of running into bears. I remember that being my strongest emotion at that time; fear. I remember I was afraid of being sad like I was that day. It wasn't a normal sadness, no. I knew something was wrong. Something had clicked off that wasn't going to click on again. I was heart sick. I found my way out of the woods and to my family again.

We were going to take a family picture that day. We all gathered around the lake and for some reason I felt the need to push my brother Jason off the dock and into the lake. I don't know why I did that. Maybe I thought it'd make me laugh and bring some light back into my heart and my mind. It didn't. And he, understandably, wasn't too happy with me. But we took a family picture anyway. All of us together, Jason soaked. I'm in front, sitting on a rock with my elbows on my knees, wearing a hat with my head tilted slightly, smiling brightly.

And that picture hung on our wall for years and years. I saw it every day. My bright, beautiful, perfect smile. A perfect reminder of that very first day that I just felt... off.