I Am Still Here

I remember this December day in 2006.

We met the photographer at Arsenal Park near the State Capitol. She told me that we were going to just follow my children around...they will guide us, she said...we are not going to pose them, but capture them as they are. Free.

They stopped to smell flowers. Climbed on low branches. Played peek-a-boo in the palm leaves. They hugged. They kissed each other.

I can still remember the wind and London’s long, curly blonde hair. That wild, gorgeous hair.
I can still see Becket skipping, smiling, sticking out his tongue. That smile.

At the end, the photographer and I were walking behind them. They kept turning around to see if we were still there. When they would see us, they would turn around and walk on.

They would take a few steps, then turn around again—to see me.

Still there. Still behind them.

Even now, they walk their path—no longer young children, but young adults—I am still here.

The path has not always been easy nor have they always stayed on course.

But even in those moments, I can still see her blonde hair, see him skipping and hear them laughing.

Thank you Nicole Callac for capturing this memory.

I am still here. And they are still turning around.