For my mom’s Christmas gift this year, I was coordinating a big family photo of all of her kids and grandkids. I was photographing the families one at a time, with the plan to create one large composited image for her, while also gifting each of my siblings their own family photo. I had photographed one brother, and my son and his wife. I was scheduled to photograph everyone else on different days over the week between Christmas and New Years.
Wednesday, December 22, tragedy struck our family when the plane my brother David was flying suddenly lost lift and crashed, killing both him and our niece, Lorelai.
Even as I write this, I STILL keep thinking, this CAN NOT be true. This did NOT happen. HOW could this happen?? How can two vibrant, loving souls just be…gone?
And what is the first thing we ALL reached for?
Photos of them.
It’s all we have left. It’s what keeps them with us.
Here is what is absolutely breaking my heart: I don’t have a single photo of either of my brothers’ entire family together. I am a freaking portrait photographer and I never photographed them, all together with just their family!!! What the actual F%$#!?!?!
How could I NOT have said, “Hey, while you’re visiting let’s step into the studio really quickly and get a family portrait for you?” Why didn’t I??? I could have at least been able to give their families something…but I’m empty-handed.
This past month has been such a roller coaster of emotions. At first, I just needed to ignore the entire world and focus on surviving each moment as it came. I couldn’t eat, I couldn’t sleep, I couldn’t think of anything but their loss. It is still always present; that empty, aching, hollow where once my brother’s laughter lived. How many times have I reached for my phone to record a Marco Polo, or send a text, only to be crippled by the pain all over again?
And then, I see my two sisters in law, who are hurting so much more profoundly than I am, continuing to care for their children, comfort others around them, share beautiful stories of David and Lorelai, and show the most inspiring courage and strength I’ve ever seen. They remind me that even in the most soul-crushing grief, we can find moments of peace if we look for them. Tiny respites from the storm. Tender mercies from a God who loves each of us and is aware of us. It doesn’t take away the pain, the desolation, the rage; but somehow it makes it a little easier to bear.
I don’t know why. It’s not fair. David’s eight children growing up without their father who was one of the best human beings I know is NOT FAIR. Lorelai’s family missing out on seeing her grow up and do all of the things little girls do as they grow into adulthood is NOT FAIR.
But I do know somehow, we go on. One step at a time. Slowly…
I also know I’m photographing every one I love as soon as possible!