In my 20s, I railed against anything 'spiritual', I thought it was all crap.

Learn a language of another country and then you can go to that country: a place where the problems of your family will not follow. A language they do not speak.

These were the lovely bones that had grown around my absence: the connections-sometimes tenuous, sometimes made at great cost, but often magnificent-that happened after I was gone. And I began to see things in a way that let me hold the world without me in it. The events that my death wrought were merely the bones of a body that would become whole at some unpredictable time in the future. The price of what I came to see as this miraculous body had been my life.

I was in the air around him. I was in the cold mornings he had now. I was in the quiet time he spent alone. I was the girl he had chosen to kiss. He wanted, somehow to set me free. -Susie Salmon

I had rescued the moment by using my camera and in that way had found how to stop time and hold it. No one could take that image away from me because I owned it.

Well, as my dad would say, it means she’s out of this shithole.

Who would have thought something that happened that long ago could have such power?