I remember when this photo was taken. I was two years old. My parents ventured downtown in New Brunswick (New Jersey) and took me to the Thomas Studio. Mr. Thomas wasn't only the most popular photographer in New Brunswick, he might have also been the only one. Almost all of our relatives had portraits taken there.
It was a warm spring day. The outfit I wore was navy blue, the white shirt had a matching navy blue collar and buttons. Mr. Thomas brought out several photographic "props" and let me choose the one that I found most appealing. I chose the book.
So why am I telling this?
Because that photo is my favorite childhood portrait. It reveals the innocence and the blissful naivety that graces the threshold of our fledgling lives - - until our blessed innocence is inevitably and rudely swept away by the raw, grueling, mercilessly cruel journey that is ahead of us.
Birthdays are fun during childhood, but they become a tedious unwanted mockery as we grow older.
What would I like for my birthday?
I'd like to completely forget it.
I'd like to have my health, my youth, my long-ago innocence. And the optimism that once kept me motivated and alive.
I'd like to expunge the relentlessly harsh and devastatingly brutal years that eventually turned me from a positive youth into a bitter, negative old man.
I'd like to eradicate all of my past mistakes, poor judgment, wasted time, profound regrets, miscalculations, unintentional blunders, thoughtlessness, self-hatred, frivolous pursuits.
I'd like to gather up the precious good times, wrap them up with ribbons and give them to myself - - in my present desperate time of need.
Alone, forgotten, in alarmingly poor health, trapped in a hopelessly squalid situation - - another tauntingly unwanted birthday.
When I die no one will know and absolutely no one will care.
I'll finally be free to let my spirit soar and haunt the nearby forest in abstract eternity.
Eternally, Jon
