Tomorrow marks one year since we left for China to bring our son home.
I captured this image last year on our drive to the San Francisco airport. The rolling hills in northern California were already sun scorched, a backdrop of gold and rust. We made our way through winding roads and windmills, images indigenous to the area. It was the last stretch of land we traveled before crossing the vast blue Pacific.
It’s as if my body knows and time itself is ticking inside of me, in my bones, as steady as my pulse, counting down to this moment that changed our lives forever.
I am still processing it. I have been without many words over the past year. One year later, and I finally feel as though sharing pieces of this story is a possibility.
I want to share parts of it over the next few weeks. It is a way of remembering and releasing. Sometimes it may just be a few photos. Sometimes a painting. Perhaps a poem or a string of thoughts. To try and tell it all feels overwhelming, so I will share the pieces as they come.
Thanks for sharing in the journey.