Earlier today, I had a 1-year birthday party to photograph. The birthday boy's name is Bentley, and I have photographed the little fella many many many times in his very first year of life.  (I could go on about how much I love Bentley Boo, but that isn't quite the point I want to make).  His adorable monkey themed party took place in the St. Francis retirement home.  
I haven't been in a nursing home since the passing of my Grandma (who, in which, I so wish I would've visited more than I did). I just had the hardest time getting myself to go visit.  My heart just aches at the thought of it.  I hated the way my Grandma would look at us with her sad eyes that said, "when do I get to go home?".  Her worsening Emphysema answered that question for us. It broke my heart in so many ways. 
 Yet she was amazing.  She was comical and blunt, brusque, and strong.  She wasn't afraid to interrupt to get her point across.  She was a bare minimum sort of person.  Oh, we did argue often, but we always did have a special bond. I'll always be her "Tayter".
Today, in St. Francis, I met a man.  He was taking a stroll down the hall.  As I approached him, I began to say "Goodmorning!", but I was bluntly interrupted when he asked, "Where in the world are your socks!?", while staring at my sockless feet in my brand new flats. I didn't expect for something so simple to hit me so hard.  I couldn't help but to smile. 
<3
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Smiles and lots of love, Taylor



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