The eyes tell a story.

Just about everyone that knows me, knows I like to take pictures. And they rarely have any people in them, I am not good at capturing people, expressing them in the photo is hard for me, I have trouble accurately putting people on film. But this past Friday I had an opportunity to photograph my grandmother. Something that we have not done in a few years, because for some reason, we try not to document the condition she is in, as if not taking her picture means we don't have to accept what has happened to her. But I changed my thinking on it. She is still alive, she is still my grandmother, and I still love her dearly. I did not want to let denial get in the way anymore, I wanted to capture who she is now, because this is how she is now. She seems to communicate with her eyes, she watches and fixes her eyes on the people talking to her, and to me, her eyes are captivating, and they are the only form of expression she has left. So I took her picture. She seemed to enjoy it, because she kept staring right through the lens at me. One picture captured that, communicated that, and accurately depicts how I felt when I looked through the viewfinder. It captured a moment.