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In one scene, I am untangling my sister's hair, sitting on the ocean rocks we used to play on back when we would eat honeysuckles and wineberries for breakfast. My mom sits on the path she walked on for her wedding at the lighthouse. Another photograph shows my mom, sister, and I scattered amongst the dried up lake we used to go to with my dad, back when he was alive and Susannah and I were little. The lake where we free ranged; our seven and eight year old souls that canoed to collect wild blueberries still echo in those trees. The photograph shows us wading in the little stream that remains of the lake, the very same lake we caught sunfish in just to see them shine, wish them well, and throw them back. 

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