It was a late Saturday morning, the kind where children absorbed hours of silly cartoons, while Dads tended to their leaf-covered lawns. Jake was happy that both would be taking a break from the norm. All three kids were away at school and Emma, at her mother's. Jake wasn't about to waste the rare opportunity of peace with a roaring lawn mower. Instead, he decided to lazily snoop around the house for things he'd forgotten to miss.

The attic was too damn hot and musty to hang around. The garage was much too cluttered to even consider diving in. The hallway closet proved perfect. With only one peek, the treasure hunt paid off. It was an old photo album covered in gaudy gold foil. Jake sat down with a tall glass of iced tea and flipped through its bent pages. Each picture was like rediscovering his own life through the eyes of his children...

The album began with the three miracles of birth that God and Emma pulled off together. Michael, the first born, was actually the smallest, weighing in at 6 pounds, 11 ounces. The tiny blue knitted cap covered his cone head and Jake's eyes swelled to see it again. He was so beautiful. Max came next and Jake could still feel the moment he'd fallen in love with him. Then, along came Andrea, the porker. At 9 pounds even, Jake had to laugh, recalling everyone's initial reaction at the maternity ward window, "She's so beautiful and so dainty." Hardly! Jake wiped his eyes. They were all beautiful, each one of them with their blue eyes and light hair; true products of parents with the same.

In the early days, Emma insisted on catching everything on film. What Jake didn't realize was that at one point, she rearranged the photos according to event, not chronological order. It seemed strange, but as he sifted through, he decided he liked it. He could actually see his three children growing up on each page turned.

After capturing the three trips home from the hospital, Emma caught the grubby faces of people learning to eat on their own. She snapped their first steps and Jake laughed aloud when he spotted a photo that was supposed to show Max speaking his first word. "Dada," the little boy grunted, as Emma knelt right in his face, making him see spots. The red in his eyes was nothing compared to the crying that took place afterward.

The next series was devoted to Christmas. There were brilliant glossies of Jake stringing lights on some sad-looking trees with his three favorite little people. For the first few years, the kids were covered in tinsel, their eyes beaming in anticipation of a fat man in a red suit. Christmas mornings began with a mountain of unwrapped gifts neatly stacked beneath decorated evergreens. Then, the squinted eyes of children, not yet awake, would follow. They were dressed in different color feet pajamas and though they looked innocent, Jake now held evidence that proved differently. The living room, once orderly, became overrun with balls of red and green wrapping paper. Amidst this, hints of children jumped from one toy to the next. "Oh God," Jake said aloud. There were even a few surprise shots of him. He always looked the same: Dead. He must have enjoyed too much eggnog back then. Grinning, he sighed, "Those were the days!"

Birthdays became Emma's next theme. Glowing chocolate cakes shimmered from the pages and behind each one, the pucker of a child could be found. Strangely, that's all the kids ever blew out, homemade chocolate cakes. The presents that followed, year-after-year, showed the changing styles of fashion. Braces, corrective lenses and various haircuts, defining the days of rebellion, were trapped in time. Jake shook his head. He could remember when a trip to John Rodrigues, the barber, was like going to see the dentist. It was amazing. Everyone looked so young; Emma, Buddy, even those who no longer lived looked like kids themselves. Time could be cruel. Turning the page, Jake caught one last glimpse of a pointy party hat and the face of sheer exhaustion. He chuckled. It was the Evans' family hostess; Emma.

The first pictures of the kids heading off to school were priceless. Each waited at the bus stop in new clothes, holding their lunch boxes and willing themselves to be strong in the face of the unknown. Jake's chest swelled with an age-old pride.

Summer vacations began with day trips. There were poses taken in front of museums, amusement parks, zoos and the aquarium. One summer, he and Emma went all out and hit every highlight in New Hampshire. The yellow dog-eared photos revealed the Old Man in the Mountain, Clark's Trading Post, with its dancing bears, Santa's Village and the Polar Caves. In five long days, they saw it all and the pictures betrayed all the energy spent. Emma captured each warm moment. As the kids got older and money was easier to come by, Florida replaced New Hampshire, as Magic Mountain was preferred over the White Mountains. Staring hard at the memories, Jake couldn't decide which were more fun. Sometimes, it truly felt like they had more with less. There was more need for imagination and it was better appreciated. In any event, the album proved a long-standing theory that Jake believed. Summer vacations weren't relaxing. They were missions.

Little League pictures showed Michael and Max in their respective striped uniforms. Max had the arm of a pitcher, while Michael guided his little brother from behind the plate. Andrea's dance recitals were held during that same period of time. "Sweet Lord, the four hour dance recitals," Jake recalled, aloud, "filled with little girls who were so adorable, but didn't have the rhythm of a slug."

Next were the school plays. Michael never lived down his role as Peter Pan and the green tights that made him famous. Max made a distinguished Abe Lincoln and for whatever reason, Andrea never made it beyond the roles of talking trees and walking snowflakes. Jake had to laugh. It seemed like only yesterday.

Toward the middle of the picture show, Michael and Max sat up in hospital beds, both eating Popsicles. They had gotten their tonsils removed at the same time and according to the photos, Andrea was the only one who did the crying. As usual, the baby of the family must have felt left out. Cards and gifts filled the window sill and looking back at the boys, Jake had to wonder: In those days, when they pulled tonsils out as quick as rotten teeth, Emma must have landed a 2 for 1 sale.

Appropriately enough, the next photos were of Michael playing hockey. It didn't take him two months before he got one of his own teeth knocked out, costing Jake ten hours of overtime to replace it. Even when things went well, it was an expensive sport and with Michael, probably more so than for other kids. By the time he was twelve, other kids at school branded him every nickname from "Bull" to "Tiny." Michael never missed many meals and looking at the photos, it was also clear that he missed few opportunities to slam an opponent into the glass. Jake grinned. He could remember having to conceal his primitive pride. Though he hated to admit it, it was nice having a son who had no problem getting into the mix, even if it did cost his father ten hours of extra labor.

Next came Andrea's first shots on the volleyball court. Who would have ever guessed she'd go as far as she did? At 14, she was already lanky and as determined as any adult Jake ever met. Emma must have shared Jake's admiration. There were quite a few volleyball photos. Jake absorbed each one and went on.

Picture after picture, Jake realized that his favorites were not the ones in which the kids were ordered to pose. The best were those they never expected. A photo of Max, smiling on the potty like he had just learned the secret to world peace, was invaluable. From the camouflage of sand dunes, there were also shots taken at the beach. Jake recalled carrying the camera that day. He got every inch of Emma buried from head-to-toe before kidding her that, if he could cook well enough to keep the kids alive, she would be left for the buzzards. He didn't have to remember her face. The photo spoke volumes.

The Halloween costumes got 'cooler' with each passing year, as Superman was gladly traded in for different members of KISS. At summer cookouts, when water balloons soaked the camera, Emma screamed until Jake took chase. She was pretty quick back then. Through the pages, Jake could still hear her laughter.

Tiny bums in bathtub shots were almost as good as those of sleeping angels. Caught lying on their Dad's chest, Jake could still remember awaking to find his babies snuggled against him. It was then that he knew - if only for a moment - life could be perfect.

There were others, like Michael, trying to ride the poor dog that lasted only three weeks with the family. Buttons was already sick when they picked him out at the animal shelter. The only thing the mutt really gave them was an early understanding of the incredible feelings of loss accompanied by death.

Photos of three grinning snow angels almost had Jake weeping. He couldn't help it. Emma really did compile a portfolio of love; a growing and maturing book of life.

First cars and the smiles of freedom beamed at the back of the book, while Jake and the children's nervous mother concealed their fears of doom. Prom pictures captured Andrea in a beautiful pink lace dress, while her corsage was handed over by a young trembling hand. Jake had to chuckle. He didn't want to stare the boy down. He just couldn't help it. Michael and Max looked like men in their tuxedos. For whatever reason, Prom night was the time Jake chose for "The Talk." As he remembered, he was a decade too late with the both of them. They'd already learned everything they needed to know before pigtails were traded in for perms and cowlicks, pushed down with hair gel. "Where did the time go?" he whimpered to himself. It seemed so unfair, yet he knew better than dare to complain. He and Emma had enjoyed every moment.

The album ended with each high school graduation. While the kids paraded across the stage in robes and tassels, Emma boxed out other parents for a good shot of her own. Long before the video camera became popular, Emma could have given any paparazzi a run for his money. She was ferocious when it came to her children. She was just as fierce when it came to capturing the precious moments that might be enjoyed on a lazy Saturday morning somewhere down the road.

As Michael attended Westfield State to study Criminal Justice and Max lived on campus at the University of Massachusetts - Amherst, Andrea ran off to UCONN to show the world the most powerful volleyball serve they'd ever seen. And that was it. Their father closed the cover on three magical childhoods.

Jake sat back, wiped his eyes and smiled. He now understood why Emma wrapped the photo album in gold. Whether the world recognized it or not, for better than twenty years, he and his wife lived as the wealthiest people on earth.