Chiaroscuro

 

 

Seventeen years ago, on June 18, you were all smiles in the Emergency Room. "I feel fine, daddy, probably something I ate” you tried to comfort my fears.

Two days later you were in a wheelchair getting worried, and asked to say a prayer.

That is when I took this picture at the Johns Hopkins hospital in Baltimore.

 

Seventeen years ago, on July 19, we kissed you for the last time.

 

That kiss, with your eyes already closed, will be the kiss I remember when my time comes to close my eyes on a life where a corner of emptiness never found is solace.

 

July 18, 2022

© Vahé A. Kazandjian, 2022