Having a play with wedding photos. Sheesh! Nothing like your own child’s wedding photos to conjure your most sentimental, tender self. 25 years of being your baby and then there’s no denying they’re all grown up. And that means you, well, you are super grown-up… super-duper grown-up. More grown up than you ever thought you would be or could be, maybe than you should be. And somehow, somehow… it seems like I am less me and more a part of something larger, I am a comment, a bit of a statement, maybe a whole paragraph in the scheme of things if I’m lucky. Will I take this photo again in another 25 years or so – with another silk flower nestled in the front there? I wonder.
Titirangi Storyteller 
Ooh, such a lovely metaphor.
As to being a mere paragraph? No way. You’re a book, a rather lengthy one full of interesting things. (Length has nothing to do with age, by the way)
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Oh thank you Lita! That is so nice of you to say… Hopefully I’ll leave some interesting stories behind when I go…
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