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As a kid, we had a box full of photos in my parents closet. Hundreds of photos and memories. We would spend hours paging through them and pestering my parents with questions as to the who/where/what/why. I miss that. I don’t have boxes of photos for my children to sift through.
I asked my parents if I could sneak in a mini shoot while we were on vacation.
I wanted some photos of them for ME (as did my siblings).
I shouldn’t admit that looking through them made me cry. The good kind.
I could write a book about how amazing these two are. They have given everything (and always have) to those around them. They are two of the most selfless, compassionate, and hardworking people I know.
I am thankful to have them as examples of marriage.
Thirty five years.
He still calls her doll.
She still blushes when he looks at her.
Don’t worry….he really is smiling under that mustache.
I am often asked what it is like in Montana.
Beautiful. Old. Simplicity. Hard.
A saddle tree. An old safe. Rain chains. Just imagine the stories these things could tell.
It is called God’s Country for a reason.
I will share just a few.
Everyone asks about my daughter’s blue eyes. She gets them from her. Simply stunning.
My son sitting with his Nana (“Nanee”) and Popa (“Pop”)
She has given her grand babies dozens of baths. I am thankful mine get a turn.
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