I thought helping my granddaughter clean out the attic would mean dust, old decorations, and a few embarrassing photos from my teenage years. Then she found one picture, stared at it for a little too long, and said something that made me realize the past might not be as settled as I believed.
I was cleaning the attic with my granddaughter Ellie when she found the photograph I had spent forty-two years pretending meant less to me than it did.
I turned around and saw her holding my old prom album.
“Grandma, look at your hair!”
I turned around and saw her holding my old prom album.
“Oh, give me that.”
She dodged me, laughing.
“You look like your head exploded.”
My older brother Charlie making a face behind my head.
“It was 1984. We had different standards.”
She dropped beside me on the dusty floor and flipped through the pages.
School friends.
My parents standing stiffly beside me.
My older brother Charlie making a face behind my head.
He was eighteen in the photograph, wearing a rented black tuxedo.
Charlie had always been the dependable one in our family.
Then Ellie stopped.
“Who’s this?”
I knew before I looked.
David.
He was eighteen in the photograph, wearing a rented black tuxedo and the nervous smile he always got when somebody pointed a camera at him.
“Was he your boyfriend?”
I was beside him in a pale blue dress.
“His name was David,” I said.
“Was he your boyfriend?”
“My first serious one.”
Ellie grinned.
“Before Grandpa?”
She studied the photograph.
“Long before Grandpa.”
She studied the photograph.
“You were pretty.”
“Were?”
She laughed.
David and I had been together since sophomore year.
What happened next changed everything… FULL STORY on the next page.
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