Damn...
That’s heavy, like a sucker punch right in the gut of your soul, heavy.
So, what do I photograph? What do I fear losing? Take a look at my memory cards, phone, the photos I have hanging in my home, Facebook, Instagram, etc. and you’ll almost exclusively see photos of my kids, dogs, and friends/family. I’m scared I won’t remember all the cute and insanely funny stuff my kids come up with as they get older and leave childhood behind. I’m terrified of forgetting happy times when all seems lost. I fear losing how I felt, the love we shared, and how their faces would light up my world.
As I’m writing this, it’s been a month since our beloved dog Trusty passed and five months since my heart dog Gusto left his earthly body. I know loss. I feel it in my soul, so deeply sometimes, that my grief causes my bones to ache. The sadness has been overwhelming at times. I’ve wept, screamed, and cursed. It hurts that they’re gone. What hurts more is that I won’t be able to make new memories or take more photos with them. Life has pretty much divided itself into before (when they were here) and now. They were such a huge part of our lives for so many years. Especially this past year when we’ve been home practically the entire time and cut off from friends and family. It feels like my support system has been decimated and there’s an enormous emptiness in the house.
Trusty was terrified of thunderstorms. Mikayla climbed in to comfort her.
Dogs are magical creatures made out of laughter, loyalty, and love. They have this awesome ability to make everything better by just being themselves. Being an empath, I absorb other beings’ energy. I feel what they feel. Sometimes with people, it gets to be too much, too complicated and overwhelming. Dogs on the other hand radiate pure, unconditional love. Even our remaining dog, Pixel’s dogginess shines through, even though her personality is more cat-like. She has really stepped up her doggy game in the last few weeks and I’m grateful for her companionship and her ability to make me smile.
A few nights ago, as we were getting ready for bed and talking, my daughter didn’t remember sharing shaved ice with Unkie Monkey. I busted out my phone and scrolled through photos from the last few years until I found the one I was looking for. Monkey (in his 70’s pornstache phase), my daughter, Trusty, and Gusto all together sitting on the couch sharing shaved ice. It was such a simple, funny, sweet moment at the time. But looking at it now, it meant so much more.
Unkie Monkey, Mikayla, Trusty, and Gusto eating shaved ice
Eric, my daughter, and I laid on the bed huddled around my phone reminiscing as the photos went by. It was definitely bittersweet. Our dogs are family, they are present in most of the pictures I take. They are a part of our everyday lives. It’s the photos that show the little details that hit the hardest. Like the time we made shaving cream paint and Gusto had to be a part of it and got it all over him; or the time my daughter wasn’t even a year old and she climbed in the tub with Trusty to keep her company during a thunderstorm.
Gusto and Gryffin playing in the shaving cream paint
Looking back hurts, but having these pictures and seeing our lives together, seeing the story of our family, takes me right back to those memories otherwise forgotten in the busyness of life. In the moment, I may be that annoying person who’s like hold on a sec, let me get my camera because I fear the feeling of that moment slipping away. So indulge me, because later on when the moment passes I need the pictures to remember.
Yesterday as I was on Instagram, I saw a post from one of my friends/clients. Their year and half year old Aussie, Dexter, had passed away from cancer. I was able to photograph his family a week after they adopted him and then again when he was a few months older. He was such a silly, wonderful boy, and fun to work with. His mom messaged me and her words had me in tears. She said that she would always cherish the photos I had taken of them. Her comments touched me deeply and actually encouraged me to write all of this down.
I’m a very visual person and struggle to find the right words. Photography gives me the language to express the emotions inside when there are no words that could express the depth. It allows me to communicate with the outside world. Photography grants me the ability to share this remembrance with others.
So while I “fear” losing the things I photograph in the present. I know that they are never truly lost. The love is always with me in my heart and the photos strengthen that feeling. The photos are a gift to my future self, they are my diary, they are my life.
