When I go out for a photography session, I do so with the hope that the images evoke a feeling, a memory. Not just pretty faces with sweet little smiles, but the happy moments in that small span of time.
Not that people looking at the camera and smiling isn’t nice. It is. I like those, too. I just hope that someday, some year, when these photos are found again, it will be the catalyst for reminiscing.
For remembering what it was like to hold her little hand in yours, how she used to look at you with a sparkle in her eye, like you were in on some special secret.
To see his little tuft of blond, wind-blown hair and feel a small sentiment of joy mixed with a touch of sadness that the days went so quickly.
To know that in that moment, you were happy, on the cusp of something important and wonderful, when that stage in life was a new page, a plan of proportion, an empty slate of dream and possibility. When you could look at each other as parents, as husband and wife, and know there was something important in that glance.
The moments when little voices asked questions, and looked up at you, as if you knew just when and what to say. When the trust in their eyes was both wonderful and sobering. When they depended on you for everything, and the weight of that responsibility was so often on your mind.
To remember that it was busy, and sometimes tiring, but more than all of that, it was full of hope and an expectation of promise to come.
Ben and Carla, you know our heart, and have shared many memories with Paul and I. It was such a privilege to spend a morning with you. We love your little family, and look forward to seeing what the blessing of years will bring.