The Brown Leather Frame (original version)

The old leather frame had not stood amongst the keepsakes on
the sideboard in the ‘parlour’ of my grandmothers’ house.
There were a myriad other frames there;
some were silver, others gold or maybe brass.
They were oval, square and rectangular in shape;
as diverse as the cluster of memories they imprisoned.

I was there of course; in fact I hogged a major section.
My life to date chronologically ordered; front to back.
My first school uniform too mortar board and gown;
proudly pointed out to various girl friends and
accompanied, eloquently and unambiguously
with commentary; like a professional guide
showing visitors some rare and priceless treasure.

On the back of each frame, written in a small neat hand
could be found the documentation relevant
to the photograph within; date, age, place and reason
for inclusion in this shelved history;
‘Chris, 4 years and 9 months, first day of school,
St. Patrick’s, Griffin Road, Plumstead, 1st. September 1960.
Please God, look after him and keep him from harm.
He is so small and I love him so; my little angel!’

I felt a tear escape and splash onto my thumbnail.
I picked up the brown leather frame; made conspicuous
by its age and the deeply yellowed and cracking print.
Strange, that this particular photograph, though old,
was new to me. I felt that I would have noticed it,
had it been displayed amongst its polished contemporaries.

The photograph – barely discernable – seemed to be of
a young man wearing a uniform and a big smile.
I flipped it over and found, slipped into the border
a plastic envelope. I removed it and there, written in
The same small, neat hand on the back of the frame;
‘Patrick, 19 years and 7 months, basic training completed,
Woolwich barracks, 16th May, 1916. Please God
send him back to me; he is my love, my heart, my soul,
my husband, my everything; I will never love another!’

I was stunned and shaken. She had asked that these two
Photographs accompany her on her journey.
I had placed mine, as requested and as I glanced again
At the older, brown leather frame, I noticed something
‘scrawled’ in the bottom left hand corner;
‘Patrick 1896 – 1916 R.I.P.’
Too many memories, too many thoughts cascaded down
the waterfall that were my emotions.
I replaced the sheet in the plastic and re-fitted it too the frame
laying it beside mine in grandmother’s coffin.