Tuesday, February 12
Salon.com Life | Don't say "cheese" I treasure the photos I have of my boys, their doe-eyed looks, their fat baby bottoms, their naked boy bodies rollicking in the tub. I want to hold them forever in those moments; preserve them, keep them alive. I'd love to always hear their baby boy voices, their made-up words, the songs they sing. I'd love to always watch them dance their little boy dances. I want to keep my boys forever. But I can't, any more than those Victorian mothers in those silvery tinted Daguerreotypes could hold onto their stillborn babies by having them photographed cradled in their arms as if alive.
