In my father’s office there is a closet piled to the ceiling with boxes of photos. I spent hours gleaning for traces of my own life. Found only a handful of pictures of us together.
Conversation
Among the many boxes of photos from Vietnam and of his life with my stepmother Patricia I was moved to discover that his primary subject—recorded in 10s of 1000s of photographs was close-ups of flowers. Just like mine. Beauty.
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