It’s amazing how a little time can change a person’s perspective.

I’ve been thinking about this a lot lately, after seeing family pictures in a different light.

When I was about eight years old, my parents took my siblings and me to Daytona Beach, Fla. While we were there, my mom wanted to take some family photos of us kids to commemorate the occasion. My brother, on the left side of the frame, wore red trunks. I wore blue trunks and stood at the right. My sister, who was about three at the time, wore a pink bathing suit and stood between me and our big brother.

Mom, of course, took a ton of pictures while we waited not-so-patiently for her to be done.

Little did we know, at the time, that we had begun a family tradition.
We returned to the beach a few years later, and had a great time as always. On our last day there, Mom said we needed to take family pictures again. Upon recalling our initial trip to the beach, we kids knew this would take a while. We stood on the sand with our slightly-forced smiles, and posed for pictures once again.

It wasn’t until we got home and got our photos developed – back when it took a few days to do so – that my mom discovered something. My brother was again wearing red in the photos. I was again wearing blue, and my sister was wearing pink.

Plus, each of us was standing in the exact same position for the second set of of photos as we did for our first.

At that point, Mom had an epiphany. She said whenever we went to the beach as a family from then on, each of us had to pack clothes corresponding to our respective colors for picture day. Each of us also stood in the same spot as we did during our past photo sessions.

As we got older, we kids admittedly grew more exasperated with our beach photo tradition. The three of us eventually became really good at smiling for pictures, while muttering our annoyance over the whole process.

My mom is deaf, so she had no idea about those mutterings, which just made it more memorable for my siblings and me.

The beach pictures now adorn the hallway at my mom’s house. I’ve caught myself looking at them hundreds of times, and I always think back to the memories I made with my brother and sister.

However, I didn’t realize until recently that some traditions never die – even if we haven’t taken a family trip to the beach in more than 20 years.

A few months ago, I met with my family at a local soccer complex so we could all watch my nephews play. We don’t get many chances to gather as a family outside of the holiday season, so it was a special time for all of us.

While we were all sitting on the bleachers, I convinced my brother and sister that we needed to take a picture together. I gave my phone to my mom, and she snapped a few photos. And yes, we kids – all grown up – briefly revisited our earlier penchant for muttering through our smiles.

When I took a closer look at the soccer photo a couple weeks ago, I had an epiphany of my own. Once again, my brother was standing at the left, wearing a red sweatshirt. I was on the right, wearing a blue fleece pullover. My sister, standing between us, was wearing a maroon sweater.

Maroon’s in the same color family as pink. As far as I’m concerned, it counts.

And so, our family tradition continues.

When my siblings and I took our first set of beach pictures together, we had no idea we were launching a family tradition. Each year that we added to our collection of photos, we built on our memories together even if we didn’t always feel like smiling for the camera.

These days, taking photos with my brother and sister means more to me than ever before. I hope my family has a chance to go to the beach together again someday.

But even if we don’t, I hope my siblings and I can continue building our memories together for years to come.

Jason has worked in newspapers since 2005, spending the majority of that time in Henry County.