Long time gone.

Those friends you knew before you grew up.  Those first couple friends when your couple-hood was just beginning.  Those friends who were the first to know when you were expecting your first baby.  Those friends who knew it was crazy to have a baby in college but were crazy right along with you.   Those friends who stood in the blessing circle with you and you stood in their's.  They watched and loved on your first baby while you took your hubby to the ultrasound to find out you were having .... another boy!

Those friends.  Those friends you only see but every two years or so, and only for a few hours.  But you pick right up where you left off and you leave with your heart full to the brim.

This last visit, we stepped right outside their front door and did a quick family pictures session. And then we made our respective eldest offspring babysit the whole clan and we took off for a quick milkshakes-and-fries date night.  And we looked at each other in awe, "Have we really made it this far?!"  We really have and it's really freaking awesome.

I'll Take It.

Two months ago, I posted about my accident that changed my reality, it's here if you're interested in the recap.  Today I want to post about something interesting that came out of it.

This accident taught me that when certain abilities are taken away, it makes me question who I actually am.  In the month after the accident, I wasn't able to be a mom, or a photographer, or even read a good book, or crochet a fun project.  Check off my top 4 ways I spend my time.  My relationship with my husband dwindled to merely suggestions on who can take care of the kids next.  And the worst part was that I wondered, What's left?  Who am I when all of that is stripped away?  Because that's not fluff.  It's a huge part of who I am.

And I found I really liked what was left.  I am a woman.  I am a daughter of God.  I am brave.  I cry when I'm scared, like horribly with all kinds of snot and tears, but I hold still and let them put the needle in anyway.  I am strong.  I can be hurt, badly.  And I can also heal. 

I am not the 25 year old that had been stuck in my head for many years.  And while I'd love her body again, I really, really love the woman I've turned into. 

To make sure I really felt that way, and wasn't just trying to convince myself of it, I hired Michelle Jones, of Michelle Unscripted, to document the Now.  Because in a photo, the context is stripped away.  There's no "Mom" or "Wife" or "Photographer" title.  There's only me.  Take it or leave it.

I'll take it.  With gratitude.