She listlessly walked down the weather oak staircase, her eyes slowly perusing the pictures on the wall. She stopped at the one in the silver and blue frame, the captures of their wedding day. Oh how iconic her dress was. Decked in the most delicate lace. The biggest satin bow she had ever seen, fluffed up so big that it looked like two heavenly clouds attached to her waist. And next to her, as handsome as ever, in a navy blue bow tie and matching pleated cummerbund, Grandpa. The way they locked eyes in the photo made it appear as if they felt they were the only two in the room that night. Their smiles beamed. They were finally together again.

Her eyes continued down the length of the staircase. She had almost reached the end of the banister when she saw them. All four. So intentionally hung. In the the most brilliant golden frames she’d had ever seen. As if they were glowing. Four intricately illustrated silhouettes of her, her sister and their two grandchildren. Gazing upon the details she remembered how little they all once were. And seeing them all together, left a pang in her heart so deep, it was if a tiny inconspicuous mouse had taken a needle and quickly, but gentle, poke a small hole inside it.

“How loved we were” she thought to herself, gently tracing the profile of her own silhouette, closing her eyes, getting lost of memories long gone.

She listlessly walked down the weathered oak staircase, her eyes slowly perusing the pictures on the wall. She stopped at the one in the silver and blue frame, the captures of their wedding day. Oh how iconic her dress was. Decked in the most delicate lace. The biggest satin bow she had ever seen, fluffed up so big that it looked like two heavenly clouds attached to her waist. And next to her, as handsome as ever, in a navy blue bow tie and matching pleated cummerbund, Grandpa. The way they locked eyes in the photo made it appear as if they felt they were the only two in the room that night. Their smiles beamed. They were finally together again.

Her eyes continued down the length of the staircase passed photos of beach outings and family christmases, first birthdays and graduations. She had almost reached the end of the banister when she saw them. All four. So intentionally hung. In the the most brilliant golden frames she’d had ever seen. As if they were glowing. Four intricately illustrated silhouettes of her, her sister and their two grandchildren. Gazing upon the details she remembered how little they all once were. And seeing them all together, left a pang in her heart so deep, it was as if a tiny inconspicuous mouse had taken a needle and quickly, but gently, poked a small hole inside it.

“How loved we were” she thought to herself, gently tracing the profile of her own silhouette, closing her eyes, getting lost in memories long gone.

// order your silhouette fine art prints available in the shop.