I remember having sleepovers at your house when we were twelve. Your dad would always leave us an Entamins coffee cake and a gallon jug of Giant brand orange juice. It would be placed with care in the middle of the small table that was pressed up against the far wall of your kitchen…the same wall where the phone hung… across from the refridgerator with inspirational quotes from Weight Watchers and the latest school picture of you. As a parent now, I can imagine his joy… waking up early and sneaking out to be sure we had our treats. It makes me smile. I remember the back of his head in your station wagon on the way to our soccer games…his pride for you. I remember when, in the middle of night at my house, my big brother woke you up to tell you he was gone. “My dad died” is all you said the next morning and I think I said nothing in return. I also remember that Sunday at church when we knew it was coming during the prayers…”and for those who have died.” As soon as they said your dad’s name, we looked at each other and burst into soft uncontrolable laughter. We never talked about it but I always new how much you missed him.
You had this picture. It is you beaming on top of his shoulders. He is holding both your hands.
I’ve never told you this but that picture and how you loved it inpired me to do what I do today. You- happy on your dads shoulders…him- lifting you up above it all, gives such meaning to every single shot I take…and I just wanted to let you know. You both are in every picture I take.