The most meaningful photograph in our home hangs just above the couch in the living room.
The frame has a small crack in one corner. I caused it years ago when I was eight and accidentally knocked it off the wall with a foam soccer ball. Dad looked at the broken corner, sighed for a moment, and then smiled slightly.
“Well… I survived the day that photo was taken,” he said. “I think I can survive this too.”
In the picture, a thin teenage boy stands on a football field wearing a graduation cap that sits slightly crooked on his head. He looks nervous—almost overwhelmed. In his arms is a tiny baby wrapped tightly in a blanket.