A Father's Arms

So, today my mom found the pics that she has been looking for. They are of my real dad. I have now looked at them for the 500th time and I still don't think I really see who he is. I should point out that the pics are not that great,you know what I mean....they are from the 70's. They are little squares with some blurred image that I should recognize and yet.....I don't. The few that were given are small but they do show his face. It seems like a sweet and tender face, not at all like the monster that my mom portrayed him as. As I look at this pic of him holding me, he does not look uncomfortable. He is holding me in the cradle of his arm. He is looking at me, almost smiling with a gentle look in his eyes. I mean, it looks just like a pic I have of Terry holding one of our children. It looks normal.... well maybe not, it looks real. I know, I know the stories that my mom has told are awful, horrible and just painful. But,even with all that I can look at these pics from 1974 and see a Daddy. Funny isn't it, the things that change over the years. She can only remember him as evil and now I strain to see the glimpse of a Father.