the lions of

A month ago, I went back to my hometown in South Carolina to say goodbye to my great-grandma on her death bed. At 28 years old, it was the first time I felt like an adult. It was the beginning of the first days of my true adulthood. I stood over my great-grandma knowing her last breath was drawing near; there was a calm acceptance about that fact. She was always as strong as an ox, both mentally and physically, and now the matriarch of our family was now dying.

One morning after I left the hospital I went for a drive in downtown Columbia to clear my head. I found myself finally discovering a part of me that I had been searching for nearly a decade.

My grandparent's house

This is Baby.

The State House.

View from the steps of the State House.

Strangely, I didn't take any photographs of family members. I didn't feel it was a good time to wave a camera in their faces. In her last week, she awoke to speak only once; it was in response to my voice, she opened her eyes, winked at me, and said, "I love you."

Six days later, she was gone.