I have this thing about taking pictures of paths. I usually hang behind the rest of the family and snap a shot of them as they walk away. From afar, I'm sure I look a little silly: back-peddling, side-stepping and then running up to my family, just to get the perfect angle.
I do this so much that I think half of my pictures are of my family's backsides. But there's just something about it, seeing them walk away, and feeling nostalgic that they are all there, together, walking down the same road. I'm always flooded with memories of just one child with Hubby, then two, three and then four. It's the remembering of them growing up, getting taller, the family multiplying in size, changing in shape that gets me all choked up, and super-protective all in one swoop. And blustery and proud.
Sometimes I wish I could take pictures of the different circles of people in my life: the mommies, the Army friends, the nurses, the crafters, and the writers. How in months--in years--the view changes. How the triumphs, the challenges, the switching of hats, the dreams, the additions to their families show in their faces, in how they carry themselves, how tall they walk or how slow they move.
It would be an amazing picture. I wouldn't be able to do it justice; I couldn't come close to showing how creative and strong my friends are. There wouldn't be enough room in my viewfinder to contain their talent.
This was a long post to say simply, I'm so grateful to find a community wherever I go, virtually and in real life (IRL). And I guess I'm just so proud to be walking this road with you.