"So these were my friends." I showed her the faded photograph, our eyes resting on the image that was frozen in time.
"They really meant a lot to you."
It wasn't a question. She could tell by our faces, the silent laughter erupting from the youthful smiles. I couldn't answer. The unexpected lump in my throat forced me to set the frame back on the mantle where until tonight it had rested unnoticed for so long.
She lifted it gently, wiping the dust from the glass. "Was that you?" She pointed to the young man on the end, his demeanor of one with his whole life before him.
I nodded, still unable to speak. Maybe it would good those old souls hadn't the chance to see what had become of the boy beside them, to see the shadow of the man he'd become.
"Can I have this?"
Her words caught me and I think my sudden movement startled her as well. But her smooth young hands were firm on the snapshot of my past.
"Too many people don't know what true friendship looks like, Grandpa."
I wrapped my arm around her shoulders, her head resting on my chest.
She looked up. "Some never get to see how much freedom really costs."
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