It's the little gestures that people do for one another that amaze me. Michael's grandmother sent him a gift...so small and meaningless to her, but it had a major impact of him. It was a photo...not just any photo, but one of his mother Julie and himself. I had never seen his mother before now...she passed away when he was only 7-8 years old. I watched in wonder while he peered at the picture...gently holding it in his hands. The look in his eyes...hurt, pain and love. I noticed the gentle mist of tears in his eyes as he traced his finger over her image. I sit here typing this getting all teary eyed. Those moments of silence as he looked at the image of his mother. He holds a lot of pain inside himself...Julie is a subject we really don't speak of. I've asked about her, and I know those last few months were hard and definately not something a child his age should ever have had to help through. His life fell apart the day his mom left this world. She was his everything, and he was hers.
I sit back and look at her picture and see such a resemblance between Michael and his mother Julie. He has her nose, her eyes, her mouth, her facial features.
It truly is the little things...even photographs...for some they may be just a picture of people on a paper...to others, it may mean the world.
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