skirt and sadness

my grand-father is dying now. every time i think 'never again', i cry. every time a memory bubbles up, i smile. it is both achingly raw and surprisingly gentle, this pain of having to say good-bye.

(skirt = little white dress not worn because wrong model + amazing aquamarine indian silk pants not worn because torn beyond repair. i cut off the top of the dress, pleated the back, added elastic and a couple of ties with little bells, then added a silk ruffle on the bottom)