Framed Memories

Sun through my bedroom window casts shadows on framed pictures of loved ones here and gone. The self portrait of my son, age six, framed in an old velvet and gold frame he must have found in the attic. Carefully wrapped, and put under the tree for me. A black and white picture of my brother Gary, gone six years, but living on in a black and white photo; boot on knee poking through ripped jeans, long hair framing his young face. An engraved plaque on the frame reads “go cas’le muid aris” Gaelic for ” til we meet again”. He will forever be that rebel young man in the photo, a genius behind the camera, an adventurous soul. The newest addition to my shelf, a picture of my daughter and her sweet little family. Mother and Father smile as they hold their new baby between their hearts. Next to the newest, the sun casts its last rays on the oldest. A sepia photo of my Grandmother, my Father’s Mother; her gentle smile so familiar because it is so much like my own. The sun at days end fills my room with a warm amber blanket, in my mind it illuminates an endless shelf filled with the framed faces of all I hold within my heart…

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