Posted on July 10th, 2014
This past spring, I headed back “home” to Philly to take a picture of something that might not happen for a long long time – my family, 14 people (with spouses and kids), all being in the same place at one time. Most of the time we are not all even in the same state, sometimes not even in the same country. I guess that’s what happens when you have 8 children and give them a sense of adventure.
Living 6 hours away from family four years has made some mundane milestones seem huge in my eyes. Like the very normal occurence of my brothers getting taller or filling out college applications. But I still get caught off guard. And that weekend, when I was out in Philly, my youngest brother needed an updated photo so we created a mini shoot and pulled another brother along for the ride. We goofed off and had fun and talked about new music we found, just like always. It wasn’t really until I was home and going through the photos when I realized how old my brothers really were. And how tall.
Because I have proof. I have proof that they were once too short to reach the top of the Christmas tree. Or reach the top of a gate. And proof that they were willing from a young age to head out on mini adventures for the sake of their sister’s need to take pictures.
Then they grew up.