February 23, 2009
Itís a moment caught in time: a sunny summer day in the country. A mother holds her youngest son, not much more than a baby. He is laughing, the sun making his bright hair a halo. He is utterly happy and secure. He looks at this picture now, more than four decades later, and canít remember ever feeling like that. He does remember that day, or at least many days like that, but the feelings are long gone and he canít recapture them. He puts the picture back in the faded envelope, and puts the memories away, too. For now.