Today we moved some rugs around,
Raked leaves...
....and put up our Christmas lights.
Earlier than years past.
We're moving along.
Slowly but surely.
We talk about you often Henry....
...and in some ways...you're more alive than ever.
We think of you often.
We remember.
We cry a little less....
....smile a little more...
....and always....
ALWAYS...
...see you whenever the sun sets.
Keep shining on us boy.
I'm not sure I have the right words for this Henry boy.
They elude me in every way...
....as I type this through tears.
We let you go yesterday.
....and as hard as that was, we know it was best and that you're in a good place...
Romping with Junior.
Nuzzling up with Penga.
Free from the collar of life and pain that we just didn't see until very recently.
Many tears have been shed and many more will undoubtedly follow.
You were a good boy.
Strong.
Loyal.
Protective of your family at all costs.
A fabric of our lives....
....and now, your absence is so abundantly clear.
Our house is quiet.
Its walls and floors mourn for you.
No more walks.
No more tail wags at the front door.
No more of that Henry smell.
....but what we're left with is profound
The mark you made on us
The way you made us feel...
Whether you were by our side or just knowing that you were in the next room
....and for that
We're so ever thankful.
Thank you Henry!
Rest in peace.
We love you.
September 1, 2001 - November 23, 2013
They come and go.
Often forgotten and taken for granted.
Routine.
Simple.
Plentiful.
Happening now….right this very instant.
Ripe for the taking…
…and soaking in.
But only when I focus…
…and choose to see them.
Today we celebrated my Mom's birthday.
It was so simple...
....and so right.
Football, food and family.
We're lucky to have one another....
....and these everyday times.
For us.
For our kids.
For our souls.
And we'll repeat them....
....again and again and again...
...as their meaning and importance becomes abundantly clear.
Making apple pie for Grandmom.
Every time I pick up the camera, my goal is always the same…to connect.
I want my images to resonate and stir up the viewer’s insides.
To capture who and what they know so very well.
…and allow them to view their world…from the outside looking in.
And see how sweet it is.
To connect…
….to the simplicity of running with your youngest on your back.
To feel their weight and tug of their hands.
To hear their giggles.
…and requests for more.
To feel the beating of hearts…
One.
In the moment.
The everyday times that tired parents can look back upon. Long after the kids are in bed. Long after they’re grown. Long after they’ve left the nest.
….and smile. Remember. Reflect.
Times to return to…whenever the spirit moves them.
The power of a still image.
It’s moving.
To be given the opportunity to do that for people makes me feel so incredibly lucky. I’m so very appreciative. Opening your life up to someone with a camera is a big thing. On a certain level it takes a lot of guts. It’s a vulnerable state to be in and a moderate amount of trust is involved.
With time, confidence ensues.
Comfort.
The camera fades away….
….as your world comes into the foreground.
That’s when things get real.
Grace and Toby. Patterson Park. Baltimore, MD.