No matter how grown up your babies get, apparently after they pass, when you close your eyes and picture them, you remember them at the age when they were most precious. For my mom, she sees my brother as a sweet 2 year old, sitting under an old tree in front of the house during the summer of '66, pretending to bring her hamburgers and coke for lunch while she rested in the shade; a relief from the heat of the house which was stifling in the last weeks of pregnancy.
For my dear friend, she sees her son as a quiet, dark eyed, 8 year old boy, always wanting to learn more and more and more about every subject and lovingly doting on his youngest brother.
I hope these memories never fade for them; and that whenever they think of their lost boys they are able to remember them only with the love and happiness of a life lived, not the pain of a life lost.
1 comment:
How can we possibly be siblings? I could never put my thoughts into words as eloquently as you. You are absolutely amazing - your creativity doesn't stop with your photography or your thoughts, it shows in everything you do. Love you!
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