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Some parents find it too painful to look at old photos of their child who died. I felt the opposite. Going down memory lane and seeing photos of Rob as a kid and as an adult kept me connected to him, and that’s what I needed the most in the first few months after his death.
If that’s not what you need the most, I get it, but I’d still suggest looking at a photo or two every now and then. Viewing old photos is like time traveling. There’s your child, growing up right before your eyes, until it stops before it’s supposed to stop. It’s heartbreaking, I know, and the anguish can be too much to bear, but if you can somehow stick with it, a bittersweet joy eventually arises from these photographic ashes.
At least that was the way it worked for me. I’d often start my tour at the top of the stairs with my all-time favorite photo—a framed poster-sized picture of me and the kids in our backyard when we lived in Long Island. It was taken for a story about having testicular cancer that I wrote for GQ more than 40 years ago. Zach’s wearing an Allan Houston Knicks jersey........