18. PHOTO
I watched a movie with Jack on Netflix…it got me thinking. I became a photographer to preserve time and the truth is…a part of me died when I began my journey for my masters degree. I became a master but I lost a part of myself along the way…I cared about money…about climbing the corporate ladder. Then…I lost my son. And as I sit here trying to put down into words what I am trying to say…what I am feeling…my son woke me up. The very thing I am trying my hardest to do for him…right now…is to preserve his memory…his very existence…that he was here…he happened. A preservationist is what they call us…us photographers. Maybe there is some life still within me…as an artist…an artist that was shaken…an artist that was woke up from her slumber. As always…maybe nothing will come of my small bursts of “ah ha” moments…or maybe something will. Once again, I feel enlighten. Enriched this time by a moving picture.
So while I continue to examine my “stirrings”…my “ah ha” moments, trying to find my purpose, and try to find symmetry between my drive to preserve my son and my instinctual want to preserve my surrounding world with photographs along with possibly finding symmetry between old photography showings of mine of grave stones in Ireland along with what people left behind for their loved ones…messages…memories…preservations of time lost. Hearts…photographs of the hearts…and placing heart rocks. While that all happens in my mind…I want to leave you all with something. The idea of preservation.
Many of you reading this blog at this time mainly do so to keep up to date with Jack and I, whether because you are friend, family, or acquaintance…you care…you are interested…and you actually like to read what I have to say. Now…down the road from now…hopefully I will gain more readers…hopefully this post itself will find its way to someone who needs it most. What I want to say is that if you are someone who is facing the terrible fact that your child is dying…or has already died in your womb…and so on. I want you to heed my advice to have photographs taken. I know it sounds morbid. I know it sounds like the worst idea in the history of ideas. I get it. I thought it…I was there. I literally wore your shoes you are wearing. I felt the pain, I thought the thoughts. But…but…I am so very grateful that I had someone telling me…guiding me to have photographs taken. Ours were taken in the last few hours of our son’s life. My Dad agonized over the idea only allowing it to take place because I said I wanted them. I had them taken only because I was told I never had to look at them. I could tuck them away forever…but for the small chance that someday I would want to see them…I would have no regrets. I would have them tucked away and I could get them out. And I don’t want any of you to have any regrets either.
For me, it wasn’t much longer after Jackie’s memorial that I had his photographs hanging proudly in our home. I look at our darkest moments every single day. It’s healing for me. It’s what works for me. I want to see him…I want to remember. To be honest, I am never going to forget anyway…so why should I spend all my time trying to forget, trying to cover it all up, trying to hide the pain…when instead I can embrace the photographs and embrace that we were able to preserve that moment…to stop time dead in its tracks. That is the exact reason I feel in love with photography in the first place.
We love you Bear, Jackie, and Peanut!
#MayWeAllHeal #MWAH2018 #shareyourstory #ourkidsarewatching #ourjackofhearts #angelmommy