There is so much that is hard to believe about this photograph.
It's hard to believe this little girl became my mother. That she was ever this young, and nervous, and small.
It's hard to believe this image even exists, that I'm allowed to stare at proof of this instant, at this sliver of time gone by.
It's hard to believe that the sun shone that way, and mom smiled that way, and the lake rippled that way, and the water ski guy kept his hair just that way.
No season teaches us like summer. Every breath of it whispers impermanence.
And mom understands this better than us. Up with the sun, down to the dock, and into the lake without pause, she swims out to greet the break of each summer day.