Spent the morning sitting outside with M while we looked through some of her old photos and she told me the stories behind them. When I suggested we do this, her response was, “You don’t want to hear an old lady tell stories!” I burst out laughing and told her it was my idea, wasn’t it?! Told her I live for stories. Not sure she believed me, but she agreed and we went downstairs and outside to the patio area.

I took out a handful of photographs from the little box and asked her about them one at a time. Seeing her light up as she explained each one, after being unsure she wanted to look through them at all, was something I hope I never forget. It was like watching someone travel through time, but in the eyes only. She told me she hadn’t seen some of these since the time when they were taken. Some seemed quite emotionally stirring – photos of now long-dead best friends with whom she traveled the world (and some dashing best friends’ brothers!), baby siblings now seniors, and M’s own parents, young and in love. She has boxes and boxes of memories of so many adventures and I can’t wait to go through more of them with her next week. I told her her pictures make me want to go on more adventures. She told me to ‘go for it’ whenever possible.

M’s niece lives in Ontario and occasionally sends me emails. She requested that I take a selfie with M so the rest of the family can see what I look like. I told this to M and her response was that selfie is a goofy word and anyway she doesn’t like having her picture taken anymore. I told her selfie is actually the worst word, and she’s beautiful. After laughing and rolling her eyes, she agreed. I’ll have to print our photo so I can hopefully stumble upon it many years from now and echo M: “Oh this one… I remember this one… She was my dear friend.”


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