Smile, Though Your Heart Is Breaking
I was eating dinner with my parents a couple of days after this photograph was uploaded to Flickr. My father was halfway through the mound of what we call “Gladys’ Casserole” on his plate when, quite suddenly and out-of-the-blue, he turned and spoke to me.
“You know that picture of all of us and Grandpa and Grandma Osterberg you posted the other day?”
“Yeah. The one from January of ’87?”
“Yeah, that one.”
“What about it?”
“You know, I think that’s the only time I can remember seeing my mother smile.”
He looked down at his plate, took a bite, chewed for a while and then looked up at me.