“We were together, I forget the rest.” Walt Whitman

heir.loom. noun

a valuable object that has belonged to a family for several generations

I found myself glancing at myself from outside. Seeing more clearly the things I normaly miss. Seeing him, and them and our actions together as something more than just happening to me. This is life, I thought. Real. Life. and it means something. It means a lot. A touch here, a wink there. A deep breath here, a few tears there. Things we think we hide so well, things we think we don’t hide at all. It all makes up me. It makes up him and it makes up them. Connections. Just one day. My every day. Our heirloom

“I’m crying” she wrote. “These are beautiful. How life feels in my heart.” 

“I can’t even begin to put into words how beautiful these turned out. It’s heart-wrenching how you captured us” she wrote. 

Connections. She. Him. Her. and don’t forget dog. Just one day. But oh that day. Their every day. 

 

“This life is a love affair” she said.

Here is their one day. Their life. Their heirloom. 

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