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It’s amazing how a simple photograph can stir a multitude of feelings.

I love this one of me holding my grandbaby. I love it first because of his chubby little arms with the rolls upon rolls of pure sweetness. I love it because of his chunky thighs that squish in my hands when I hold him up high. I love it because his fat little feet are naked, just the way he likes them and his perfect piggy toes are there just waiting for me to kiss them!

I love this photo because it captures the serious look he often has in his eyes, studying everything in his world very carefully before committing to anything at all. I love it because it captures the peak at the center of his forehead where his fluffy baby chick fuzz is beginning to show. And I love it because looking at this photo, I can feel the weight of his body leaning into me as he presses his check close to mine in a knowing way. He’s my boy.

This photograph was taken in a spontaneous moment, a day when I was there to help capture his smile and direct his gaze for the photographer. I wasn’t there to be photographed myself. I’d spent the morning with baby kisses washing off what little makeup I had applied and had no idea what my hair was doing at the time. But when asked, “Would you like to take a photo?”

This is me saying “yes!”

I love this photo because looking at it, I remember that brief moment of saying, “No, I’m not prepared to be in a picture.” But more importantly, I remember how quickly I dismissed that voice and spoke my truth.

“Yes, I want to capture this moment with my grandbaby because this moment will never come again.”

“Yes, it matters more to me to capture the energy of the moment than the physical features.”

“Yes! For once in my life, I love myself in this moment so much that I want a photograph to capture that for me.”

I love this photo.

I love this baby.

I love this life.

I love this me. The one who says yes.


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