Let me take you back to January 2018—a time that felt like a mix of chaos, exhaustion, and “Are we even doing this right?” vibes. It was the month we said goodbye to my mother-in-law, a woman who somehow managed to be both formidable and hilarious in the same breath. Her absence hit like a freight train, and suddenly, life became a whirlwind of tasks: managing family logistics, comforting kids, and attempting to keep ourselves from completely unraveling. Spoiler alert: the unraveling still happened, just on a delay, like the kind of buffering you get when Wi-Fi is terrible. All this, only a very short time after we had to say goodbye to my own mom.
We spent way too much time in the car that month, zigzagging between responsibilities and family gatherings. I think the kids started to think the backseat was their new home. But somewhere in that emotional chaos, between crying kids and cold coffee, something funny happened. We started noticing the skies.
Not in a “Oh wow, nature is healing us” kind of way,don’t get me wrong, we were still sleep-deprived and cranky, but in a way that made us pause.
Like the first photo. That sky was just obnoxiously beautiful. Sunbeams cutting through the clouds like they had something to prove. I remember pulling over and telling everyone, “Alright, we’re stopping because this is some Bob Ross-level drama right here.” The kids rolled their eyes, but deep down, I think they got it.
And then there was the second photo—the moody, misty one. This one’s got “sad indie movie soundtrack” written all over it. It was early morning, and we were driving back from yet another family meeting, when I noticed how the mist blanketed the fields like it was trying to hide something. It fit our mood perfectly: foggy, uncertain, but weirdly calm. I took it because, honestly, that’s what grief felt like.
By the time we hit the third photo—the endless road—it was almost comical. We were halfway through another drive, the kids were arguing about snacks (why are there never enough snacks?), and the road just seemed to stretch on forever. It felt like some metaphor for life that was way too on the nose. But hey, at least the barn in the distance made it look like something out of a country music video. I’m pretty sure I started humming “Take Me Home, Country Roads” just to annoy everyone. Mission accomplished. But not just to annoy, John Denver has always had a special, comforting place in my heart, as it was one of the few LP records my mom had, and i grew up with.
And finally, the last one—the golden hour photo. That was a rare moment of clarity. The sky was a masterpiece, and for a second, it felt like the universe was telling us, “Yeah, life’s messy, but it’s also stupidly beautiful if you take a second to notice.” So we did. And then I promptly ruined the moment by pointing out that “golden hour” was prime selfie time. Nobody laughed, but I thought it was funny.
Looking back, I realize those skies weren’t just beautiful—they were grounding. In a month where everything felt out of control, they were a reminder that no matter how much life threw at us, the world kept turning, and the sky kept painting these insane works of art.
So, here’s the takeaway: grief sucks, family is everything, and sometimes, you need to stop the car, ignore the fact that your kids are threatening mutiny over juice boxes, and take a picture of the damn sky. Because even in the hardest moments, there’s beauty if you’re willing to look up.
📸 Captured & Edited
Shot with: Apple iPhone 14 Max Pro
Edited using: Lightroom Mobile & Skylum Luminar AI
All photos are my own work. Dive deeper and explore more on my website or check out my links.
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