The quest to look at early photos of one's youth is a natural after losing a mother. After all , in all of these photos, I knew what was waiting for me at home - warm house, a dog, my mom, food, my world - unrocked. I think it's inaccurate to think I had no worries - I know I did - but it is why Hollywood and Madison Avenue have made millions on melancholy - melancholia feels warm and comforts the wounded, or makes us remember things in a way that seem better than what we have.
I wouldn't go back, but I do know the feeling of going home to parents I loved and loved me - I am one of the lucky ones.
Labels: Journal: June's Reality