I wanted to take a few pictures of Aria’s nursery since we will be moving soon, and from then on her room will only exist in boxes. I wanted to have photos to look back on through the years, so we never forget what her room looked like.
I decided I wanted to take a few pictures with me in them as well. To be honest, I’m not really sure why. I know it may seem a bit strange to take photos in her room after her passing, but this phase of my life is so pivotal that I felt I should document it. I don’t know, maybe it’s because I can feel her presence every time I set foot into her room. So in some way it almost feels as if she’s with me in these pictures.
This image stands out to me the most.
There is so much more to this photograph than meets the eye. The pink blanket in Aria’s crib is one of two that were handmade by my sister. One of the blankets was given to me, and the other was placed on Aria just before she was buried. It’s such a symbol that although Aria is no longer with us on earth, we are still connected in so many ways. My head is lifted towards the sky instead of gazing downward into her empty crib, for she soars above me in heaven. My eyes are closed because her presence isn’t something that I can see, it is felt deep within my bones in ways I can’t explain. When I quiet the noise around me and really focus, I can still feel her. The connection between mother and daughter is unbreakable, not even death can destroy it.
I am constantly amazed at how frequently I find pieces of Aria’s legacy in my everyday life. Aria has impacted me so much more than I ever realized she could. I have been forever changed by her existence – in the most beautiful and powerful ways.
And the old saying is definitely true, a picture really is worth a thousand words.