From a piece written in 2009, once there were mermaids three.

I went to the attic to find some old photos I wanted to visit and was devastated to discover in last years roof replacement debacle water has seeped into some boxes of small framed photos melting them to the glass. There are varied stages of damage, some beyond repair. A few angry tears and I am now seeing them more clearly, the memory is intact. This was the summer before Mandy was to start kindergarten, and our sweet unstructured time would be ending. Summer had a deadline for the first time in my life as a mother, September 5th. Long sandy swimming days of wax paper wrapped lunches and sandcastles would be marked as put away for a year by the new school calendar. We went to the beach almost daily that summer, my little blond girl bleached to white hair and baked to brown skin, my dark haired sari stayed surprisingly white! We caught minnows in butterfly nets, gave them names and held them hostage in sand pails until the end of the day before setting them free. We wrote wishes in the sand, used washed up logs as ‘boats’ and oh, then we were part of the big world. My children came into my life when I was quite young and we grew together. Now if so blessed will have long times to still spend together. I love being a mom of grown ups, it is so interesting to see who they become, but I miss this time so deeply some days I can almost visit it in my mind as real as if a road trip. Maybe the photos aren’t supposed to stay brand new, maybe the memory is the holding place.
I should have the negatives filed in disarray, i am afraid to look should i not find them.