A reunion.
On Christmas, I opened a box that held this framed photograph.
A gift from my father.
A window to the past.
Two people I never knew who helped to create me.
A woman my father loved dearly. His grandmother.
Before she died, she knew my mother was pregnant with me.
She said not being able to meet me was going to be one of her regrets.
The cup is from her Fostoria collection that was given to me by my grandmother, her daughter.
I know her through these dishes and glasses that fill my china cupboard.
Now, I put a face with the feeling.
And even though we did not meet face to face, we can meet in the melding of energy from past and present.
We can meet in the love that is passed from her to my father to me.
See other SPT reflections here.
