Fridge Pics Unfrozen

Here in America, we are lucky to have pictures that frame our past in memory.

Men on a girder in NY ... Dorothea Lange's "Migrant Mother"... MLK.

But sometimes, the pictures that aren't historic in the public sense but are iconic of our country on a personal basis end up stuck on refrigerator doors.  I think that these would greatly improve our sense or history... they are personal, but they reflect larger images of who we are as a people,  They make us look both inward and outward.

,,, ,,, ,,,

When Dad died, I flew to Oklahoma.  When I got there, I took two pictures of pictures stuck to his fridge...

I look at these and I see an old Kansas farm boy hugging his adopted grandottter from China, I also see his vagabond son (me), his son's wife from Chicago, and again, the grandotter.

(The doggie footprint magnets are purely a stroke of luck.)

... 

Over the past 20 odd years, I've avoided returning to my home town in Oklahoma. I'll include the details in future posts, but to put it simply, we weren't in Kansas anymore... at least most of us weren't.  The town had changed.  The people had changed.  

Still, Dad maintained his place somewhere over the rainbow.

As for me, I'm still watching blue birds fly. For that, I will always owe my father thanks.