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After my grandad died, I found a photo of him eating a sandwich.
He was worn-out, and grubby; leaning against his tractor in the sun. And he was smiling- that boyish, mischievous, infectious smile.
And as your photographer, that’s the best gift I can give you… Photos that capture how you want to be remembered.
Because one day these photos will be all they have left. They’ll find a dusty box in the back of a cupboard; brush off the lid, and look inside.
And they’ll see you. Happy, young, goofy you.
You and your bump, in the quiet of the dunes. Sleepy cuddles in a home they don’t remember. Days at the beach, and half-forgotten games.
And they’ll stare at them, and smile at them, and put them in their pocket. And they’ll keep them safe, and pass them down.
Because as long as they have them, they’ll always have you. And in some small way, they keep a piece of you alive.
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