I truly am my father's daughter.....I take pictures of everything.....my father took pictures of everything too....
the mundane, the seemingly insignificant, the tiniest details of everyday life often overlooked and otherwise long forgotten.....
a mother sleeping with her two baby girls....all three together....his girls.....
flushed pink cheeks from the summer heat....browned skin and bandaids....
mom's signature painted nails, pale blue eyeshadow and long dark hair....hair cut shorter as babies grew taller....
a child's sandal tossed on the cabin floor.....a floor laid down by his own bare hands....
me always wanting to be snuggled by somebody.....especially when sleeping, but often while awake....
the sheets that stay the same year after year.....softened with patterns never forgotten....
the pillow that bears the mark from where my father once laid....no longer there....
no longer here....
left only with the pictures of the girls he adored.....
