When you first saw me, you reached for your camera and took my picture immediately. People photograph the ones they love. Now, it’s your turn in front of my camera. We spent most of our lives in suburbia with Mom and Dad. Now, I’m 21 and you’re 25. We’ve left home and moved to the city–just us two. Together. We’ve left parts of ourselves along the way, in our mother’s kitchen and our grandma's garden. But now we can grow to discover who we were meant to be. Freedom tastes sweet. And yet, even with change, some things remain. The beach air still smells like our childhood summer. The sound of our laughter hasn’t changed. And the moments we share are just as precious. Our parents didn’t give us much, but the greatest gift they gave us was each other. You make me hope that one day my daughter will have a sister.
