My memories of my parents grow complicated as I age. Emotional reflections that once seemed so simple are clouded now by my own rationalizations; becoming an adult informs me of how difficult it is to be one, and it makes it harder not to think through old memories through a different lens. Noticing that I'm tending toward this, I've been carving out some experiences that I'm working hard not to tarnish or redefine, those times I want to keep as they've always been, uncomplicated by at least some real-life motivations.
The image above is from a photo booth strip taken during a "daddy date". I loved these dates as a kid - a little time out just me and my dad - dinner, and most of the time, a little treat. I remember bits of different dates, the food we had, the stores we meandered through, the gift I picked out at the end. Part of me really wishes I still had that set of pastel skinny belts with punched out hearts and stars instead of plain belt holes. While we're on that subject, I really wish I still had the shirt in this photo - how cure are those sleeves?
Well worn by years carried in a wallet, this photo still holds our smiles in tact. We look happy in a way that I feel grateful for - evidence of a time before we knew the truth about who we'd be and what would happen. My father and I shared a lot of our personality quirks, and though as an adult I find that to be a daunting realization, as a little girl, it made me feel special and safe.