Saturday's Old Photo: The Gift

A few weeks ago I posted a photo of my dad’s family and mentioned that there had been one more child, a boy who died when he was only a couple of months old. And here is that little one, wearing a cap and wrapped in a knit blanket, cuddled in my grandma’s arms.

On the back of this photo she has written

To Frankie [that’s my dad] -

Harmon Charles Vogt

Taken at the age of 2 months and 1 week.

Born Sept. 20, 1932

Died Dec. 12, 1932

Harmon was born with spina bifida. Counting up, I figure he died a couple of weeks after this picture was taken. If he were still living, he’d be seventy-seven years old, but as it was, Harmon Vogt’s life was more of a mist than most.

In all the other photos of my grandma, she’s looking straight at the camera. Here she’s looking down at the baby she knows will be taken from her. The Lord gives life and the Lord takes it away, leaving us with a few genuine sepia photographs for remembering.

De Profundis

Oh why is heaven built so far,
     Oh why is earth set so remote?
I cannot reach the nearest star
     That hangs afloat.

I would not care to reach the moon,
     One round monotonous of change;
Yet even she repeats her tune
     Beyond my range.

I never watch the scatter’d fire
     Of stars, or sun’s far-trailing train,
But all my heart is one desire,
     And all in vain:

For I am bound with fleshly bands,
     Joy, beauty, lie beyond my scope;
I strain my heart, I stretch my hands,
     And catch at hope. 

—Christina Rossetti

Thankful Thursday

I’m thankful for my oldest son, whose birthday is tomorrow. In related  thanksgiving, I’m also thanking God for a lovely future daughter-in-law.

On Thursdays throughout this year, I plan to post a few thoughts of thanksgiving along with Kim at the Upward Call and others.