It seems like yesterday but is in fact almost ten years since I lived with my parents. Now I see them a few times a year. As life passes and the invincibilty of youth wears off I become conscious of my own mortality and then look at my parents for signs of age. This is most struck home due to the breaks between seeing them. When you do again meet the age lines, stress and pure progression of time becomes more noticeable. I find myself looking forward to meeting up, to have deep meaningful conversations so that you can know you made the most of your time with them. Then they arrive and after a few hours I forget this and my father reads a book in the pub while I fidget or fiddle with my camera. Even this moment was good, I cherished that day. The calm reliabilty of him being there, content. This image captures the very essence of my feelings. I can see life has been visited upon my father, that he will not be here forever but there is a calm serenity also. One that words need not convey, one that we, as sons and daughters I feel, always hold dear.