I thought a lot of who I was as a child on that morning. Memories felt happy. The house seemed familiar again – know that feeling? I wished I had more pictures with them. Nevertheless these mean the world to me. Those two mean the world to me.
I see now they have aged. I realised how life left footprints in their sight. Their skin. Their bodies and mind. But then again, how beautiful they are. How strong these people are, yet so soft. I wonder how they do it, stay gentle and rough.
I will not loose words how grateful I am for their love and mistakes they made, I made. But it's important to tell, how amazing their souls are. They fought, but loved. Still do. I saw how they burned bridges, but they showed me how to build them too. How to bleed and let go. They encouraged me to dare to dream, to dream of my heart’s longing. And along the way not to forget that being ok is ok, but I should remind myself that ok is not something I should wish to settle for. They know how to inspire.
Midway we learned, that there are days when the heart is not capable to listen to the mind, sometimes it shouldn't.
I care about them so much it keeps me awake sometimes. It's hard being far from them. More for their sake then mine, to be honest. But how fortunate am I, to experience that family is a comforting and comfortable, secure, delightful feeling, showing me that life will always find it's way home. How fortunate.
I don't think I did them justice with those words, hope I did with the captured.
On that morning:
My wish was to shoot before the sun would rise, but typically my mama made breakfast first, excusing it with »the world will wait«. We missed the sunrise, of course - but the world did wait and it welcomed us with something way more exciting – the fog.