Remembering an Old Picture

Dad, I remember an old picture
Just a little boy of five
I stood proudly in front of you
Your protective hand and arm about my shoulder
My arms clutching Moo Moo and Zippy—
My two favorite stuffed animals

You were so tall, nearly a mountain
Your hair, dark and wavy
So strong, seemingly eternal
Like some mythical god-like hero
Boys my age worshipped—
And I did

No idea what was on our minds
But we looked happy
We smiled the same way
Without trying or pretending
Whoever snapped the picture knew
This is how we wanted to be

Dad, I look at you now
Your eyes dark and hollow
Your hands still large but pale
I desperately wonder where your life has gone
All the more reason—
This picture means so much

6 thoughts on “Remembering an Old Picture

  1. Thanks Gautami. No words needed, but thank you ever so much. Your thoughts are so much appreciated.

    Thanks Joanne. Much appreciated. Seeing a loved one — a parent — suffer, is so hard. Your words of comfort are much appreciated.

  2. Don,
    This is such a moving, love-filled poem of the heart. Photographs that capture a moment, a time, a glimpse into the memories of our hearts…they mean so much. With the changes that come with time…how relationships change and the vulnerability of life shifts to those who served once as our own loving guardians, it brings so much to mind, but really so much more to the heart. There is much I relate to a lot in this post, Don. And I offer you comfort of the heart and many thanks for your sharing so generously in words and in imagery.


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