A while back I found a photo of him as a little guy of about 4 or 5. I can't put the photo up because I am stupid like that-- but maybe Charlie C can. She has it.
He was just a little boy, squinting a little at the camera. You get the feeling that he had been told to hold still for his picture, and that he had waited while an adult fumbled with the camera. I can imagine that his little feet were prancing to go and run and play. He looked so serious as a man. So worried. I find that my mind returns, when I think of him, to the little boy. World Wars, and secrets, and work and fear, are all still ahead in that picture. He was nothing but potential.
I wish that little boy could have had the happy life he deserved. I wish he could have lived in a world that honored him for who he really was. He deserved that. Everyone does.
