The Last Photograph of The Golden Frame.
Posted: Sunday, October 04, 2009
by Ken McCreless
RMS1437
The old man took a step back to check his work. He had placed what he knew would be the last photograph and needed it to be straight, or it would never work. A wisp of anguish escaped his lips when he saw that it clearly was off-kilter.
His tired body stumbled backwards and fell. In spite of the pain, he could not take his eyes off the gigantic collage; thousands of ever-changing photographs, depicting every aspect and nuance of every second of his long life.
The extreme upper left-hand corner displayed a black and white photograph of his first few minutes of life. The first scene eased into the second, into the third, drifting from black and white to color, back to black and white, his mothers face distorting with pain, and beaming with joy. That was the first photograph.
The second was the trip home, mostly in color, with various angles of sight. The 47 th photograph was of him rolling over for the first time, dad calling for mom to "Come look, Mother, come look!"
Photograph #671 was the first step, #3468 the first day of school, still sore from the tree incident from #2823.
He smiled, amazed at the clarity and depth of each photograph as they changed within themselves, revealing every sad or joyful scrap contained in it.
He managed to maneuver his aching body into a kneeling position, stopping to enjoy the memories of his wedding, then the honeymoon, (he spent a little more time on that one), then wiped away a tear as he saw the birth of his son on #85,498.
He just let them flow as he relived the burial of his son in #256,542. Without realizing that he was doing it, he moved on to #288,111, the funeral of his beloved wife, Marjorie.
Now, his attention went back to the last photograph, the one that was crooked and blank. He knew he did not have the strength to walk, so he crawled to the final piece of his life, and collapsed again, convinced he would never finish it.
Heartbroken and grieving, he didn't even notice the brilliant light that had appeared next to him. A perfect hand reached over and straightened the photograph, then took his hand and helped him to his feet.
As they turned to leave, a frame took shape around the entire collection of photographs, made of pure gold and decorated in an ornate fashion, as if crafted by hundreds of old world artisans over a period of ten thousand years.
Neither of the two subjects in the final photograph held any grief or regret. How could you, gazing into the eyes of love?
His tired body stumbled backwards and fell. In spite of the pain, he could not take his eyes off the gigantic collage; thousands of ever-changing photographs, depicting every aspect and nuance of every second of his long life.
The second was the trip home, mostly in color, with various angles of sight. The 47 th photograph was of him rolling over for the first time, dad calling for mom to "Come look, Mother, come look!"
Photograph #671 was the first step, #3468 the first day of school, still sore from the tree incident from #2823.
He smiled, amazed at the clarity and depth of each photograph as they changed within themselves, revealing every sad or joyful scrap contained in it.
He managed to maneuver his aching body into a kneeling position, stopping to enjoy the memories of his wedding, then the honeymoon, (he spent a little more time on that one), then wiped away a tear as he saw the birth of his son on #85,498.
He just let them flow as he relived the burial of his son in #256,542. Without realizing that he was doing it, he moved on to #288,111, the funeral of his beloved wife, Marjorie.
Now, his attention went back to the last photograph, the one that was crooked and blank. He knew he did not have the strength to walk, so he crawled to the final piece of his life, and collapsed again, convinced he would never finish it.
Heartbroken and grieving, he didn't even notice the brilliant light that had appeared next to him. A perfect hand reached over and straightened the photograph, then took his hand and helped him to his feet.
As they turned to leave, a frame took shape around the entire collection of photographs, made of pure gold and decorated in an ornate fashion, as if crafted by hundreds of old world artisans over a period of ten thousand years.
Neither of the two subjects in the final photograph held any grief or regret. How could you, gazing into the eyes of love?
Ken McCreless is just a guy who loves to write, and was born to do so. He is a freelance writer with several projects ongoing, including books and magazines. A huge fan of both irony and history, Ken has dedicated his life and his writing to serve the Lord Jesus Christ.
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More commentsall memories worth recording are not oft recalled so it is indeed a splendid (and oft painful)idea to go through the old albums every so often to see how very much we have changed even though the camera hasnt;kudos;paulI couldn't have said it better myself, Paul!Thanks for stopping by.
I have to say something again - AWESOME (and I am no teenager with that word) creative, deep, imaginary, and so well "framed" Man O Man! MarijoI am so glad you liked it, Marijo, and that it affected you so deeply!
I need not guild the lily so I'll sum it up in one word Ken: BEAUTIFUL --- I rated this a 5 (still not high enough) in the Reader's Club, hence, no stars after this comment.Thank you so much, Edward.I certainly would never ask anyone to "guild the lily."Oh My goodness... PhD indeed! gild the lily :0Hey, I just thought you were standing up for the working lily! :)
"He managed to maneuver his aching body into a kneeling position." Ken, were you talking about me? ...Smile... It sure sounds like it. However, I enjoyed the reading very much.Thank you, Rev. Actually, I was the inspiration for THAT line!
Wow! I've been away from Searchwarp for almost a week now (working way too much!) and this is the first article I read. What a beautiful story, Ken. Thank you so much for sharing this with us.Don't deny yourself he SW experience for that long, Michael. Nobody knows what would happen!Thanks for reading and responding.
Ken,That gave me goosebumps. Very well written. Thank you for sharing.Thank you so much, Crystal
Great article--enjoyed reading it--thanks.SteveThank you, Steve.
Beautiful! What a great gift we can give to ourselves if we take time to reflect on the photographs of our life each day.SO true, Hillary.Thanks for stopping by.
Ken, this is a beautiful article. I heard that our last few moments on Earth are filled with images from our life.Thank you for reading and commenting, Deana.I have heard that as well. The "my life flashed before my eyes" experience sometimes happens in a near death instance also.
hi ken,you have managed to put so many emotions and pictures for the reader's mind to conjure up. was this true, or did you think it up?what a concept. i really liked this article. it made my emotions feel the ways they were supposed to, and that's an author's job!thanks for doing that for me,my best,sueHi Sue,This story grew from a tiny thought, as they all do. A vision of an old man trying to "make things right" was all it took to get going, though the time from inception to completion was a couple of days.I am so glad you liked it, Sue. Thank you!
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