December 2, 2011
When my mum first saw our house, she cried. It was abandoned, falling down, but to her it was perfect. She cried because it was 30 years of dreaming, coming to fruition. Our little house in the country, surrounded by fruit trees and grapes.To me this house is perfect. It is where I can breathe. I would sit on the deck and watch the sun pass behind the Alps. We would drink red wine. We wouldn’t talk, we’d just watch the sun disappear. (Photo: Our back deck, Zagorje, Croatia)

When my mum first saw our house, she cried. It was abandoned, falling down, but to her it was perfect. She cried because it was 30 years of dreaming, coming to fruition. Our little house in the country, surrounded by fruit trees and grapes.
To me this house is perfect. It is where I can breathe. I would sit on the deck and watch the sun pass behind the Alps. We would drink red wine. We wouldn’t talk, we’d just watch the sun disappear.

(Photo: Our back deck, Zagorje, Croatia)

2:28pm  |   URL: http://tmblr.co/ZrErNyChz5ZI
(Notes: 24)
  
Filed under: croatia portrait grief story memories 
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