I was going through the pictures on my computer, looking for a good one to post that I’ve taken recently. I’m not the best photographer in the world, so it was hard to find a “good” picture, but then I realized that there are some “okay” pictures that really mean something to me.

The picture above was taken in early August a few hours after a heavy rain. It was my grandma’s 94th birthday. We held a party for her at the home she and my grandpa shared for 65 years. After almost everyone had cleared out, stuffed with Pizza Hut pizza and homemade strawberry cake and orange cake, I walked outside and followed the gravel driveway to the grass where a fence had once kept cattle in.

To my right sat my grandpa’s tractor under an awning on the side of the garage. I walked over to it and took this picture: the seat of the tractor where he sat for long hours in the field, the barn he and some other men built not long after he and my grandma moved onto the land that had once been his grandparents’.

This picture was my attempt at epitomizing my grandpa, showing him in the picture even though he wasn’t there. Of course, that’s a ridiculous notion, given that one person is much more than a couple objects in a picture can show. At that moment, my grandpa, tortured with Alzheimer’s, was in a nursing home. He passed away a month later at 95. I’ll be open and say that I had to leave this post after writing the first two paragraphs because my eyes were so blurred with tears that I couldn’t see the screen.

Like I said, this picture means something to me.


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