Photographs are important; they are a record of family history, and as time passes, these images of the people we love become more valuable. The process of taking a photo may appear simple, but we must never forget why we do it.
Dad passed away nine days ago and I will cherish this image I took of him forever.
One of his final texts to me was a poignant one, sent from his hospital bed, days before he passed:
“I am amongst old men here, who walk around with little short steps, perilously holding onto any support their shaking hands can reach. They wear dishevelled pyjamas and far-away stares in their unseeing eyes. The reality is, that some of them are younger than I am, more able than I am, more interested in the world’s activities than I am, but I still think my mind’s content is younger than theirs. Of course, I could be totally wrong about all that. ‘Help me down Cemetery Road’, as the poet, Phillip Larkin said.”
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