Monday, September 17, 2012

Old Photograph

I have a picture in my bedroom 
on my night stand of my parents.
They look like newlyweds. 

The picture is paper and 
was printed and copied for me 
from a close relative

The frame is a light wood, and broken
I believe I have had the frame since grade school
There is no glass or plastic covering the photo
just mere paper bearing the faces of my parents

The photo is faded
and water spots grace sections 
of it's surface

As I was cleaning my room the other day,
I noticed the sound of a slight pitter patter 
from soft raindrops falling from the gray sky
and I made eye contact with my mother's fading hazel eyes.

You see, this old photograph is below the window
my window was slightly open

The thoughts went rolling through my head
The photo
What would happen to it if it were gone? 
If it disintegrated beneath the heavy rain?

And what would happen if my dad didn't remember that photo? 
Would the memory have ever existed? 

And what would I put in the decayed wood frame
That has held countless photographs,
and is merely holding on for dear life 
since the tape holding it together is loosing 
it's stickiness?

What would I do with an older wooden frame? 
The thought of filling it with something else 
feels like betrayal burning in my chest

How could I ever forget that photograph
and fill the frame with something other then this sacred memory

What is really sad is that 
I, Megan, will be 23 next week. 
and I still can't seem to fight 
or get over the fact that 
I need to write about my mom

That I need to not talk about it,
but write about it. 

Because writing heals my heart. 

So instead of thinking long countless 
sad, sobbing stories,

I rushed to my window and slammed it shut. 

Then I wished I could spend the day 
writing ,
and being

But I went to work instead. 

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