The Iron Angel

When we arrived, the parking lot was nearly filled and the waiting area was jammed packed.  There were only a few empty chairs.  I waited in line for my turn with the woman behind the desk and the sign that said, "stop here first".  I explained our situation to this dark haired lady, and she simply said, "where is he?"  I told her he was still in the car and was in a wheelchair.  She told me to "bring him in".  I asked her about how long we might have to wait.  She looked at me and said, "bring him in".  I hoped against hope that her repeat command meant that she might give us an opportunity to get him in and out quickly, since waiting in the car or in this waiting area would be difficult for him.  I ran back out to the van and told Warren and Daniel to get him inside as fast as possible.  As I had hoped, the lady told me to go directly to the area for the photos.  Warren, who is tall, was asked to bring the backdrop that is hung behind the person as they stand for their photo, to a lower level.  He removed it from the chains that were holding it up and held it up behind my father's head.  "OK, smile!", another woman commanded.  My father looked up as far as he could, but that's not very far since he has spinal stenosis and can't tilt his back backwards at all.  In fact, he head is somewhat tilted downwards at all times.  Combined with the fact that the camera was positioned in a high position on a counter for most of the people who are standing for their photos, the photo turned out with my father's head appearing to look down. Because the camera was pointed down at him, and he was looking down anyway, but that was ok, as far as they were concerned, it was good enough and showed enough of his face to serve as an official "photo ID".   How very long ago it had been that my father got his official driver's license, and now...he had officially turned it in.  Another milestone in someone's life.

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