Today, I am feeling ALL the feelings and here’s why:
Back in September, a past Boudoir client of mine lost her life to the Big C (dirty little bastard that it is). She was young and she fought really fucking hard to stay alive so she wouldn’t leave her husband and two year old daughter behind, but sometimes, even though we don’t realize it, our time is up, we’ve learned all we need to learn, and it’s our time to go home. Even more often though, the minute our loved ones pass away, they leave a lesson for us to learn while we journey through our grief over their loss.
I’ve learned this lesson through my journey through grief for Cora. In fact, I’ve learned so many lessons from her death that some days I feel as though I know everything and nothing can surprise me.
In September, a few days after Dana passed away, I woke up in the middle of the night with a strong urge to look at the photos I’d taken of her. I returned to sleep, but first thing in the morning, I sat down and pulled up her photos. I sat there, staring at her beautiful face and knowing that her family was just beginning to feel the all-consuming emptiness that grief fills us up with when the most important people in our lives pass away and someone or something whispered to me that the photos would be needed. Not just the photos she had chosen, but ALL of the photos I’d taken at her session. I gathered them all up, copied them to my desktop, and left them alone. I knew they would surface again.
A few days ago, Dana’s husband contacted me through Facebook and introduced himself. He explained who he was and asked if I had any more of the photos that I’d taken from our session together in 2010. I, of course, immediately felt that tug in my belly that, of late, lets me know my intuition is sharply honed, and I knew that it was probably Dana who had let me know I’d need the pics eventually. So, I sat down and imported her entire shoot into Lightroom and edited all of the pics that I had left untouched since her session. It took me all day and I had to periodically walk away from my computer because I couldn’t see her through my mask of tears.
I wasn’t crying for her. She is in the most amazing place, feeling a love that is all-consuming and all-knowing. I was crying for all of the people left behind who have to stay the course of loss and have to weather the turbulent sea of grief. The ones who haven’t died (like I did at the end of my grief journey) and had a Near Death Experience to set their hearts at ease and put them in constant touch with their deceased loved ones. The pain of that loss is so unbearable if you don’t experience the miracle of being able to reach out and feel your dearly departeds all around you.
I wept for them. For their pain. For their loss. For the uphill battle with grief that they are engaged in right now. I know that pain. I know that loss. I’ve been through that battle. And it sucks ass crackers of epic proportions.
But even through feeling all of the feelings, something else shone through for me – something profound and uplifting and beautiful. My job allows me to capture the essence of people and preserve it, for the rest of time. My easy relationships with clients allow me to catch all that is THEM and keep it frozen in time. And, best of all, when something tragic happens and one of these amazing people I am privileged to work with passes away, I can help their loved ones through their grief by giving them a huge piece of that person’s essence in a simple photograph.
A simple photograph.
How amazing is that? How blessed am I to do what I love and be able to help people at the same time!
Like I said, I am feeling all the feelings today, but mostly, I feel grounded and content and amazingly blessed to be able to help people- in any way I can – to get through their journey, whatever it may be.
Today is my last day in my 30’s and I could not have asked for a better lesson, better learning experience, better opportunity to learn and grow a little more.
One love ya’ll. One love.