Seven Years Ago Today

Seven years ago today I got that call, the call that one lives in fear of. It was 5:10pm when my aunt reached me. The thing itself had happend at 11:45 a.m.

My mother sent me the newspaper article from the Canadian county where it happened. They showed a picture of the car overturned on the road, rescue workers gathered around the car. The picture must have been taken hours after the accident-- the feeling is casual, getting work done.

(Tragedy and accidents used to be things that happened to other people.)

Now when I think of this picture I remember vividly the firemen looking at the camera, talking about something and laughing. Life goes on.

As I look at it again today, what strikes me is how the man crouching down by the passenger's seat-- where my father had been alive hours before-- looks like my father. They even crouch the same. I had not noticed that before.

The worst thing is how your memory fades their face. Even the most important person's physical presence retreats fast.

The last time I saw my father was on the beach. He told me to be good, then walked into the waves holding hands with my mom.