Before we Go
Before the boxes are packed, before the key is handed over, before the last light filters through an empty room—there is time to pause. To remember. To gather. To pay a quiet tribute to a home.
Maybe you noticed (or maybe you didn't), but I didn't send a newsletter last week. I thought I would be able to, but I was travelling and time didn't allow for any writing.
Still I did capture a few shots and they tell a little bit of a story.
My parents are moving. They're leaving a house they've called home for nearly 25 years. It's no small feat downsizing over two decades of life in a 4 bedroom farmhouse, but the emotional side of this move is much harder to process.
I graduated high-school in this house. Left this house for university and the Dominican. Got married LITERALLY in this house. Told my family we were pregnant in this house. It's truly a big deal, even for me, let alone my parents.
I have often convinced myself I am not someone who is deeply attached to houses. But when Ale and I bought our house and had to move out of our first apartment I was shocked at the emotion I felt that day standing in the door looking back on our space, completely empty.
When I look at our little yard now with the playhouse I built with my dad, I never want to think about someone else living here someday. And we've only been here less than 10 years. Imagine how much more significant a move is when a family leaves their homestead or a generational home.
But that's reality for so many elderly people right now. They need to downsize, move closer to family for support, or move into assisted living.
So I think it's timely that I let you in on a project I have had stored up in my heart for a while that I want to officially launch. Before We Go is a personal project with one simple desire: to document families, especially aging loved ones, in the homes that have quietly held their stories for decades.
These aren’t just walls—they are layered spaces filled with memories, laughter, traditions, and history. These walls have echoed with footsteps and holiday meals, and these rooms have held generations.
Before We Go is a photographic series created in that fragile space between what was and what will be, and what won’t be anymore. It is a final portrait of a space—before a house is sold, before downsizing, before the family gathers elsewhere. It’s about honouring the emotional weight of place and giving a quiet goodbye to a beloved home.
This week was a blur but I managed to sneak some pictures of the boys enjoying Nanny and Grumpas home one last time. In the title photo above, Javi woke up with a head of tangles, walked downstairs and decided to open the front door and pee right onto the porch. Of course he was scolded, but I got the shot first.
On another morning I woke them up at dawn to watch a doe and fawn graze in the back field through an upstairs window.
For years I've thought about how wonderful it would be to capture family homes and this week I saw firsthand just how important it was - or at least could have been.
I was packing, and purging, and painting and moving furniture, so I only managed to capture a few shots of my own. Because of this I know how wonderful it would it have been to have someone capture this time for us.
So I put it out to you. If you know an elderly person who is moving from their cherished home, let's talk. I'd love to honour them in their space before it's not theirs anymore.
