It’s a silly Polaroid, previously thought a waste of film, the “new” mother who captures every move her firstborn makes.
I hold this imagine as if it were a fragile holy card, a Milagros of sorts. My two hands press it to my heart. It rests there for a moment as the unending love seeps through my shirt and I take a deep breath.
Then, I lift it up a few inches from my face wondering if I missed anything, any detail of that captured moment.
Here, take a look. No, really hold it up close. See how he sits, I would guess from his size that he was about ten months old when this was taken.
Yes, he was cute wasn’t he, with that dark hair and that latte complexion? You knew he was adopted, right?
We didn’t want to wait for a matching baby, as if we were buying shoes and a purse.
You’d think that he had great posture from the way he sat up so erectly on the carpeted floor. Don’t worry many people thought that. But in reality it was the asthma that pulled those small shoulders up so high. What you’re seeing are his tiny lungs searching and grasping in silence for air.
It’s funny how he sat so close to the TV. See how his legs are stretched straight out, his tiny feet straining against the pebbly, plastic bottoms of his blue fleece pajamas. Of course, you can’t see it here in the photo but his toes would move back and forth as Bambi ran through the forest with Thumper.
I can still feel the overly worn nap as I run my finger across his little half- inch back on the photo. I am aware of his shinny black baby shampoo hair. I remember his soft, brown skin as I rest my cheek against his celluloid face.
You know, he would sit in the bathtub with his washable Ernie and trolls for company then suddenly he’d pause as if he was conjuring up some new idea and say he wanted to watch Bambi again. For some reason it calmed his breathing fears.
Can you see the tiny video playing on the TV in the back round? Yes, it’s Bambi. We had every Disney movie but for some reason none lived up to his expectations like Bambi. That’s all he ever watched. See how the camera captured that tiny forest fire scene on our twelve inch TV as Bambi looked for his mother.
The ending is always the same, Bambi searching in vain for his mother and me searching for a lost son.
Yeah, he was something…I just thought you’d like to see the evidence of our lives.