A creased and frayed wallet sized black and white photograph of my wife Danijela and our daughter Jasna.
One photograph to tell the story of lives ripped too soon from this earth, and even in that it's incomplete. What I wouldn't give for that photo to have one more life captured in it. Marko, my little boy, my son...why was he denied something even as simple as this to remember him by? Not a day goes by that I don't find myself pulling that photograph from my wallet and wondering why?
I can remember the taking of that photograph as if it had been taken yesterday instead of fifteen years ago. The occasion was one of celebration, a birthday party for Jasna to mark her fourth birthday. Marko was barely six months old at the time so if seemed only natural that I held him as the photographer captured that image of Jasna and her mother. If only I had known that it alone would survive to tell the story of those who were no longer here to speak for themselves.