A place where a wonderful woman named Grace turns little girls into beautiful swans.
The word “homecoming” takes on two meanings here.
I traveled to the fine state of Virginia a few weeks ago to attend my 20 year high school reunion. (ack!) I moved to the left side of the country right after college, and had kept little contact with most of my high school friends since then. In addition, my parents both moved on after I graduated, so I had few reasons to go back over the years. I can hardly wrap my brain around how quickly those 20 years have passed and how much life can be lived during that time. However. Once everyone was gathered Saturday night, there were so many moments when it felt to me like time had stood still, waiting for us to collect a few smile lines and age spots (speaking for myself of course) and kids and perspective… and loose a few hairs and predefined notions of popularity and success. So as reticent as I was to go and relive some of my more awkward memories, I’m really glad I went.
But on for “homecoming” meaning number two. *For those of you wanted drunken reunion images, this post is not for you.
While I was there, I also had the opportunity to photograph the daughter of a high school friend, who was getting ready with her friends for their homecoming dance…24 years after her mom and I and our dates attended our first homecoming dance together. September 1986. Him: (9th grade attempt at humor) ”So, we had a coin toss and I lost. Want to go to the dance with me?” Me: (thrilled that anyone was asking) ”Um, sure.” Conveniently, I think I’ve lost the photo of us, but had a fantastic time capturing the excitement and anticipation of their night in October 2010.