Monthly Archives: February 2012
I photographed Willow & Bailey 6 months ago, and it was a delight to see them again – especially Willow, who is growing into such a gorgeous little girl! Bailey is almost 3 years old now. I love spending time with this beautiful family, and I hope you enjoy these photos from our morning together. M x
Stars in your eyes, little one
Where do you go to dream
To a place, we all know
The land of make believe
And the day came. So many mixed feelings, but proud was absolutely on top of them all. My little girl was so serious when I asked to take some photos. She turned around right away to make sure I got a good shot of her special bag, and as soon as we were done, she yelled out “All ready Mum!” – so impatient to leave! She walked into the classroom like she’d done it a hundred times and I wanted to stay with her. Just a little. But we left and came back later to pick her up and she ran to me like it had been days and I love that so much. She’d made a Valentine’s Day heart for her Dad and I, covered in rainbow sparkles. My most favourite Valentine ever. M x
When I was a pink ballerina dancing in the kitchen
You held out your hand so I could try my luck at spinning
The world kept turning always thru it all
I knew you would catch me
When I start to fall
That’s fathers and daughters
I lay in bed this morning after a welcome sleep-in with the house to myself (husband gone to work, Miss S having a sleepover at Nanna’s house), checking Instagram for new photos. I noticed the light brighten and jumped out the door to take a quick shot of the sunrise on my phone. I love watching the sun creep up behind the city in the morning, and today was as gorgeous as ever.
It’s amazing how the same horizon can look completely different from morning through to afternoon and evening into night. And yet, it’s so familiar, like an old friend that I recognise no matter what colour she’s wearing. And we’ve known each other for 10 years now, this city view, and I. Sharing moments of contemplation, laughs with friends, playtime, dinnertime, desperate tears, and everything in between. Grief when I lost my Dad, and dreams of my little girl to come, just months later.
I always dreamed of living in the city growing up. I thought the city lights held some kind of magic! All those windows and rooms and buildings, endless square meters of mystery. And here I am, on the doorstep to one of the most beautiful cities on earth.
My constant no matter what happens. And when things seem so difficult and I can’t stop thinking and I wish I could get off the ride for just a minute – I can go outside and breathe and watch the city.
After much patient waiting (as just as much impatience) today finally arrived – Sophia’s first ballet lesson of the year. Throughout the entire holidays, I heard her plead for “Ballet today?” with big hopeful eyes, and had to try my best to make something else sound equally as thrilling. With varied success. So I’m sure I was just as excited as Sophia when I announced last night at bedtime that tomorrow we’d be going to ballet! The anticipation hung like a cloud around us all day. And then it was time to get ready. A new blue ballet uniform and Sophia was dazzled! I’m sure she checked herself in the mirror 100 times.
And what I wasn’t expecting was the swell of an almost tear as she walked into the studio alone. I sat with her for each lesson last year, but now she’s in the next class, and it’s my big confident girl dancing without Mummy right there. I couldn’t help but peek around the door now and then, just to catch a glimpse of my ballerina doing what she adores, and feeling like my half my heart was dancing in there with her. M x
Yesterday counted 4 years since the last time I spoke to my Dad. I find myself caught in between disbelief and a broken heart. Having the chance to say goodbye is no real comfort. How can any words say what should be said? How do you put together 30 years of daughter and Dad into just a minute or two of time? Sometimes I have to move my mind away before it hurts too much. So I’ll just leave this – and wish it be true. And wish he was here. M x
Death is nothing at all. It does not count.
I have only slipped away into the next room.
Nothing has happened.
Everything remains exactly as it was.
I am I, and you are you, and the old life that we lived so fondly together is untouched, unchanged.
Whatever we were to each other, that we are still.
Call me by the old familiar name.
Speak of me in the easy way which you always used.
Put no difference into your tone.
Wear no forced air of solemnity or sorrow.
Laugh as we always laughed at the little jokes that we enjoyed together.
Play, smile, think of me, pray for me.
Let my name be ever the household word that it always was.
Let it be spoken without an effort, without the ghost of a shadow upon it.
Life means all that it ever meant. It is the same as it ever was.
There is absolute and unbroken continuity.
What is this death but a negligible accident?
Why should I be out of mind because I am out of sight?
I am but waiting for you, for an interval, somewhere very near, just around the corner.
All is well. Nothing is hurt; nothing is lost.
One brief moment and all will be as it was before.
How we shall laugh at the trouble of parting when we meet again! ~ Henry Scott Holland