Snapshot

In the photo album on my shelf is a snapshot of the childhood version of me sitting next to my Grandpa.  One of his arms is cradled around me while the other cradles a storybook.  His blue eyes are framed by his characteristic browline glasses.

This was a common scene on Sunday evenings when I was young.  Grandpa would gather us around and read unfamiliar stories from old children's books; stories about a skinny kitty and a heart-shaped house. 

Grandpa's gravelly voice would capture and keep my attention until the inevitable "The End."  His words painted colorful pictures in my mind and seemed to have a life of their own.  Sitting next to my Grandpa, wearing my pink Sunday dress with matching barrettes in my hair; this is where my appreciation for books began.

When I think of my Grandpa, the moments I remember best are the ones we spent on his velvety brown and orange couch, book in hand; moments like the one that is captured in the photo album on my shelf.


This post came from a writing prompt at creativewritingprompts.com.  "A picture is worth more than a blank page.  Take out those dusty photo albums.  Pick out photo #14.  Count however you like, but make sure you stop at photo #14...Write all of the feelings that photograph made you feel.  Don't censor yourself.  Just write."  Now pull out your photo album and start writing!