Snapshots

I’ve seen two photographs today that have made me sigh. (In a good way).

One was of my great-nephew, the son of my lovely niece, E. The picture was on Instagram and E had captioned it ” The cheekiest monkey”. Little J was beaming away being, well, a cheeky monkey. He is white blonde, lively and, judging by the pictures we see, the happiest little boy you can imagine. He is the spitting image of his beautiful, smart, funny, clever mum. I love her enormously, my niece and goddaughter and, despite her being nearly 30 years my junior, I admire her immeasurably. She is raising this lovely little boy single-handedly, with the support of her family (K’s brother’s side) and grandparents. His happy little face is the product of her unfailing patience and love. Yes, it’s a snapshot and I am sure he has his moments of being hard work, a handful, like all small children (and some big children!) but he is happy and loved and cared for. What more can a child want?

The other photograph is of one of my other nieces (I have 4 – greedy?) – my brother’s eldest daughter. L is 16, tall and utterly gorgeous. However, like a lot of 16 year old girls, she hasn’t a clue; would immediately point out a defect if I was to tell her so, and I wouldn’t for fear of making her feel awkward. The photograph is of her dressed ready for Prom. I knew she was going soon as her mum and I had spoken about it when we saw them last. She was describing L’s dress to me, saying that L did not want something low cut and obvious, but the dress was stunning and (despite some last minute panics that she may have had a growth spurt and it wouldn’t fit) she hoped it would be perfect. By the look of the picture, it was. She looks happy and confident and, well, stunning. She has her mum’s willowy frame and these gorgeous brown eyes. I hope she felt as amazing as she looks and had a brilliant time.

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