Early one Tuesday morning in late March, Zach and I loaded up our suitcases and said goodbye to our pets. I grabbed my camera gear and Zach locked the door. We were headed west.
As a little girl I remember walking through the dining room, always pausing to look at the old photos inside my mom’s china cabinet. The faces staring back at me were those of my grandparents – posing for their anniversary. My grandmother wore her favorite purple dress. My great grandparents were there too, their photo in black and white. My great grandmother, whose middle name is the same as my own, looked back at me with through eyes that even in black and white are clearly the same shade of brown as mine.