DISCLAIMER: this is a heavy post. It is not pink or sparkly …in fact, it’s black and white. Even though my photography is always about such fun and exciting things, photography by itself (in my opinion) is about truth and life–the good and the difficult. So in writing this, I hope to say to you “i hear ya. I have been there. It hurts, I know…” if you are needing to hear something like that at this stage in life.
The first time I wore this outfit, black and white decorated a baby belly as I sang “It is well” at my father’s funeral. Dress (check), jacket (check), boots (check) thrown like heavy stones into the back of our minivan. It became my go-to uniform for these kinds of family gatherings. More functional than fashionable, late november provided that the black was packed to be worn again; and at that point, she was still alive.
Oh the things we do in secret… like packing black. What would she think if she knew I did that? Would she think I was betraying her? Giving up hope on her fight? Admitting my disbelief that she wasn’t going to make it? Packing this uniform felt like forfeiting…not packing it felt like denial. Nevertheless, I shoved those thoughts like I shoved those black garments, hidden under Oakley’s toys and road-trip snacks as we left home (again) to head to north. “2 to 5 days to live” swirled in our unspoken air. Those words aren’t mine. They don’t belong to my family. Do they?
I made it in time to hold her hands. I reassured her that it was going to be wonderful there and that I loved her. “We are all right behind you Jacqui…We are coming too…be there soon.” she died a few days later, ending a 4 year fight with cancer at the age of 30. My cousin. My only cousin.
.jpg)
Vacation to Japan 2007 Pre-Leukemia diagnosis..jpg)
Front Porch swing 2010 (ish)? Mid-treatment .jpg)
Shadyside Hospital, Pittsburgh, Pa. The day before her last.
.jpg)
“Trauma force to head, neck, and trunk” were my dad’s. I stash those away on his death certificate in my file box, but they seep out of that box and keep me wondering in the dark. The pictures I took of his broken motorcycle. The “for sale” sign in front of his bachelor pad that I spent middle school and high school years growing up in. Throwing away the half-full (no pun intended) gallon of milk in his refrigerator and cleaning his coffee cup. Emptying his name and filling mine with belongings and money; his “person” less and less and my “person” more and more, though I feel emptier with each transfer.
4 I said, ‘I have been banished
from your sight;
yet I will look again
toward your holy temple.’
5 The engulfing waters threatened me,[b]
the deep surrounded me;
seaweed was wrapped around my head.
6 To the roots of the mountains I sank down;
the earth beneath barred me in forever.
But you, Lord my God,
brought my life up from the pit.
7 “When my life was ebbing away,
I remembered you, Lord,
and my prayer rose to you,
to your holy temple.
8 “Those who cling to worthless idols
turn away from God’s love for them.
9 But I, with shouts of grateful praise,
will sacrifice to you.
What I have vowed I will make good.
I will say, ‘Salvation comes from the Lord.’”
10 And the Lord commanded the fish, and it vomited Jonah onto dry land.
Ok so I don’t really identify with the last part. Maybe I can interpret that in my situation to mean—I would like to be vomited out of the year 2012? haha. God delivered Jonah and God will deliver me! I will look again to his Holy temple. all i have to do is “look”. Jonah didn’t get out of his pit by trying really hard. He prayed really hard. He was looking and more importantly, knowing that God would bring him up.
And God has not left us in a drought. Through that dry and lonely land–he has brought so many good things… Like these..
.jpg)
.jpg)
“Sooner Or Later” by Mat Kearney
Waiting on a phone that never calls, at all
Heartbreak comes Rollin in like a storm, Sooner or later
Trying to swim but your sinking like a stone, Alone
Waiting here
Baby its like we’re
Walking on a wire thru the fear
Take my hand
We’ll get there
Sooner or later I swear we’re gonna make it, we’re gonna make it
Milk and honey till we get our fill
I’ll keep chasing it I always will
Sooner or later I swear
We’ll make it there
Sooner than later
trying to feel the high without the low, you know the fear inside
the hills we’ve climbed
the tears this side of heaven
all these dreams inside of me
i swear were gonna get there
We’re too young to hold this all on our own
All that came and went riding them by the winds
Blowing through the trees, she could feel it on her skin
Walking the lost streets, no one ever shares
Cry yourself to sleep, waiting on a little prayer
Bags are by the door, hearts are on the floor
There’s a bottle of tears on the dresser drawer
Nobody knows the price of this dream
And nobody knows what it took to believe
Nobody She wants to be free, like a runaway,
Trying to believe, gonna find a way,
We got just one life, tonight we’re running all the lights
Trying to break free, like a runaway
You close your eyes and cry, dying for the right to feel
I hear it coming down, oh the sweetest sound
Of forgotten tears falling on the solid ground
It’s like flying on the wings of God
