Have you ever known someone who had something good about them you couldn’t quite know, like a stranger’s child who smiles at you, like a twinkling feeling you can’t think of, so swift you beam, and then it’s gone? Something you knew but couldn’t quite grasp, like a hint of serenity, then gone. This is the Betty I know, it is herself as her truest self, a shutters glimpse into who she is. She is a child. She is not childlike or childish. She is an innocence, a naivety, a simpleness of goodness. She doesn’t think to worry, to draw a conclusion, to dwell on, she just lives a simple kindness, like a child who shares or wants to hold your hand when she’s scared, or joys in the kindness of the sun’s warmth on her face. She is unexplainable. The moment I saw this picture I knew, for the first time, a picture had chanced on the soul of my lover, the clarinet sound of Auld Lang Syne, times long past of my every day.
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| This use to be my favorite picture of her. It sat on my desk for 27 years. |
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