The images of my father stare at me.
I study each frame. Some are older shots, when he was just a boy, or even a baby. He looks like any other baby I've seen, I skip these quickly. I choose three from the pile. The first shows him with his arms wrapped around my mother's neck. They both are staring into the camera, but they look through it. They are conscious of nothing but each other; the camera disappears with their stare. The second is of my father holding me. The photo is overexposed and it's difficult make out our faces, but it's the only photo I have of us together.