Looking through my parents wedding album as a kid I was always drawn to the picture of their hands. You know the one I'm talking about - a close up, hand over hand, rings predominately displayed. I think that picture stood out for me because there was something so comforting, so familiar and recognizable about their hands. These were the hands that hugged me, held and guided me. I knew the stories of their rings - where they were purchased, why they were chosen. These hands were my parents, not the younger, thinner versions of them in the other wedding shots. When I looked at the hands, I knew I was looking at my parents.
When I got married, I just assumed I'd have a similar hand picture taken. Unfortunately, I didn't mention it to the photographer and he didn't read my mind so we ended up without that shot. During our night away, last week, in celebration of our 9th anniversary, I got that shot. We were waiting for our breakfast at a greasy spoon, east of the mountains when I looked down and there it was. So, I promptly ruined the moment by getting my camera and taking it. And now here it is, 9 years, 2 kids, 1 cat, 1 house, later.
More pictures from our anniversary get away here. For some reason, this picture insists on being tiny. I made it bigger and it was completely pixelated. sigh. wish I was tech savvy enough to get my blog to be the way I want it to be. grrrrr.
Looking forward to Muffin Tin Monday. Leave me a comment when your post is ready. Don't forget to join the flickr group.