“You’re still you and we’re still us,” Big Papa told me the other day. He’s right, of course. But in the past couple months it’s been hard to remember this in the midst of tackling various issues around two parents with dementia, one going on Medicaid and one about to move into an assisted living “memory” unit. Add to this some unspeakably frustrating and scary turns of events related to our adoption. And then just for kicks this week, toss in one trip to the ER (me for an infected thumb) and a totally to-the-rim flat tire. Let’s just say that who “me” is feels like she’s buried under a mountain of misery.
That’s not how I want to be. I’d like to dig out from under this sense of being overwhelmed and without control and find a bit of peace in my days. Joy even.
Ironically, at a time which would seem like exactly the right time to write, I can’t. I’ve started a sentence of this and a paragraph of that, only to crumple the page (or hit the Delete key). Many times writing is supremely cathartic, but of late, not so much.
Then today, I had a mini-Epiphany when I was looking through some shots from a few of the trips Big Papa and I have taken. Who am I? I’m a writer, yes. And, I’m a photographer too.
So today, and this week, and maybe for a couple weeks to come, I’m going to share of bit of myself through the images I’ve taken. If the words for a story aren’t passing easily through my fingers to the page, I can show the pictures that tell a story as seen through my eyes. As the adage goes, sometimes:
A picture is worth a thousand words.
First up: Travels in Armenia
Mountains and clouds in Armenia
Garni Temple
Candles and prayers at the Geghard Monastery
Light through Geghard Monastery