this is ireland.
this is where my mom was born.
this is where she grew up and lived until her early twenties when she ventured out into the world and met my dad.
this is where she returned to call home once again just a couple of months ago.
this is where I will be this week.
it’s a bit terrifying, the thought of getting on a plane alone and crossing an ocean at night while my loved ones sleep. the thought of not being able to check in on the brothers as they sleep warm and safe in their beds. the thought of enjoying a complimentary glass before popping two tylenol pm and praying to the dear lord jesus that my plane doesn’t crash. and that if it does, that my u-shaped neck pillow would be so insanely comfortable that I would not awake from my alcohol and drug-induced slumber.
I do almost everything with Jeremy, the love of my life, worlds greatest husband, father of my kids, remover of my tight boots (especially the right one that always gives him a bit more trouble), and constant partner in just about everything. I miss him when he goes to the grocery store. I miss him when I’m out to coffee with someone else. and I really, really miss him whenever I’m flying somewhere about to experience anything without him.
but I can’t help but feel in my bones that this is something that was meant to be. in some small way, it almost feels like a right of passage for me. in the wake of a year that held it’s fair share of pain and unbearable moments, I am still standing…flying, actually. and there is something brilliant about that, something a little brave, something whimsical and adventurous. it’s a good part of the story that is being told with my life.
so, with that I show you a tiny snapshot of where I am going. these pictures were taken in the small, coastal town my mom called home as a girl, and now calls home again, on our beautiful “leicaboss” film camera when I was in Ireland with my mom last April. I returned home and 4 days later, my dad passed away, so there are hundreds of images from that trip just sitting in some photographer purgatory, waiting to be shared. I finally have the strength to share a few…like I said,,,a little brave.
—> ash <---