A moving portrayal of love and loss captures who — and what — we leave behind once we’re gone.
One day Dad comes home with one of those old cameras, the kind that uses film. But he doesn’t take photos of the regular things people photograph. He takes pictures of his keys, his coffee cup, the objects scattered on his desk. He starts doing a lot of things that are hard to understand, like putting items that belong in the fridge in the cupboard and ones that belong in the cupboard in the fridge. In a sensitive, touching tale about losing a family member to a terminal illness, Ross Watkins and Liz Anelli prove that love is the one thing that can never be forgotten.
Done in a primary palette, the impressionistic illustrations have energy and appeal and are tasteful, raw, and emotional…As readers experience uncertainty, Watkins opens the door to discussion, making this an opportunity for dialogue about an illness that touches the lives of so many today. —Kirkus Reviews
Front endpapers display a gallery of family photos, while the back endpapers show the pictures the son takes with Dad’s camera, demonstrating the touching way he carries on his father’s memory. A bittersweet book about illness, mourning, and grief that movingly emphasizes the importance of remembrance. —Booklist