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A couple of years ago my oldest sister, Cathy, finally decided I was responsible enough to take possession of some old family pictures. She entrusted me with a handful of photographs from a life almost 40 years ago I hardly remember. I am the main focus in most of these photographs being as I was the baby of the family. There is a photograph of my father holding me that is especially intriguing to me. It is intriguing because of the way he’s holding me, the clothes we are wearing and the memories of the happy times we shared when I was that age. In the picture I see myself smiling, maybe a little warily, since my Dad is holding me above the ground, which to me must have seemed far below. But I had my chubby little arm on his shoulder to grab him if I started to feel apprehensive. It must have been comforting to feel his sturdy hand securely wrapped around my body. His other hand is stretched below my feet, giving me a place to rest my feet. His hands seemed so big then. I know I loved to hold them.
Approximate Word count = 753
Approximate Pages = 3
(250 words per page double spaced)
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