I visited my parents again this morning. As I left the cemetery, I knew
where I would go next. It took only a few minutes.
I drove slowly up the street, watching the numbers on the houses.
40...42...44...and I pulled over in front of 46.
A couple in a car backed out of the driveway and I motioned to them.
Introducing myself, I asked if they lived there.
They did indeed.
"Would you mind if I took a photo of your front door?"
Before they could dial 9-1-1, I explained.
"I grew up a few blocks away. My folks got married here.
And when I say "here", I mean "here"... In your house.
On April 12th, 1942..."
They told me to help myself and drove away.
I walked up the sidewalk and tried to imagine the moment.
Dad was 24, and Mom was 22.
A little over 72 years ago.
Frozen in time.
Now and then...