You probably won’t understand, but I will try my best. There’s this aching feeling I get whenever I drive by a field of flowers. The ache is similar when the sunlight is just pure magic falling into my car windows or when I stumble across an overgrown woods. You probably don’t understand, but I ache when I watch those things fall behind in my rearview mirror. I’m drawn to them. My own heart actually aches to see them go.
Moments are fleeting. I’ve said it before. Many times, actually. Today, my big sister would be thirty-five years old. These moments turn into days, and days into weeks, and weeks into months, and months into years… thirty-five. That’s a big number. It doesn’t seem real. And well, I guess it’s not. It’s difficult, painful, and yet, impossible to resist… thinking about where she would be today. Who she would be. It aches. But she’s up there, and I’m here, and we are each tethered to these stories that are not our own. I guess sometimes, these stories can be connected and disconnected at the same time.
I once read a book that suggested that although people have loved and lost, we are all connected by light… bouncing beams and glittery sunsets that touch us all, even those in heaven. Her light would be gold. Maybe that’s why I’m drawn to fields of flowers and overgrown woods with golden light pouring into them. It’s heaven to me. And with her there and me here, maybe that’s the closest we can be.
So to my clients… thank you for allowing me to revel in my own little version of heaven. There is truly nothing that I would rather do than capture your moments in those fields of flowers and overgrown woods. And maybe it has something to do with how much I’ve cherished my own memories on paper, but I’m sure that is something that we can both understand.
With no further adieu, I would like to share with you, the Tiell family. Like many others, this sweet family holds a special place in my heart.