Stepping Through the Fog of Time

A face blossoms across the white sheet as I slide it into the developer. It’s a familiar face of a handsome young man in a military uniform stepping through the fog of time. 70 years from negative to my photo. The face looking at me may be one I know without question but it belongs to a man I have no actual memories of. The young man in that photo is my grandfather. He was a paratrooper in World War II, he may not have jumped into France before D-day, but he was an honor guard for President Roosevelt on his Funerary Train. He went into Japan shortly after the bombs were dropped. He came back, he and my Grandmother had my Mom, he was a farmer and broke horses on the side. In the months prior to my conception he was diagnosed with lung cancer. I was born on May 20th , his one and only granddaughter. And 27 years ago today, when I was only 2 months old he left this world. Now today I’m printing with my own two hands, photos of him from a 70 year old negatives.

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