Monday, August 13, 2012

Reflections

I was gone for two weeks from July 24th until this last Tuesday night. I did not bring my camera with me. All I had was my iPhone. I took a few pictures of my children and edited them with Photo Wizard - a little app I downloaded last year.

My 99 year old grandmother had suddenly become very ill after a fall. She was diagnosed with having congestive heart failure and seemed to be in the later stages. I drove up to Wisconsin to see her with my four children, as my husband could not take off of work. I spent time with family over the next week, primarily my parents, and I tried to go in and visit her every day.



(At the highway rest area just after crossing the Mississippi from Minnesota over to Wisconsin, there are some trails that take you down next to one of the rivers that flow into the Mississippi.  We stopped for a little rest before continuing on)


Since I had my children with me, we couldn't stay for extended periods of time in the nursing home room where she stayed, but at least I was able to talk a couple of times with her when she was alert enough, and my children could also see her. Once when I visited she was sitting up and attempting to eat. She told me that when she got better she still wanted to get down to Albuquerque to visit us.
Her mind was quite remarkable. She still remembered every birthday of every child, grandchild, and great-grandchild. She was a little more forgetful in the last couple of years - of little things like where she had something stored, or remembering what was in a box of things, etc. She did not lose track of a single person.

(Here we stopped at one of the little parks in my grandmother's town)


A week after getting there she passed away. My mother was spending every possible moment with her the last couple of days, swabbing her mouth, making her comfortable, loving her. Her other children were around, and available and spending time with her. Her oldest son had flown in from Virginia, and was very tender with her. My mother spent the last two nights with her and took a little time off to come to dinner with us. When she returned, her mother had just passed away. Immediately the nursing assistants came in and assessed the situation and my mom called me. I had just taken my dad and kids to a park to play a bit. We quickly went to the nursing home and therefore were able to see her, and stay for two little bedside services - one put on by the nurses and CNAs, and one done by the local Episcopal Vicar (my grandmother was a long-time member of the church in the town).


That week I had been able to talk with her, I was able to comfort her, tell her to take deep breaths, swab her mouth, give her drink and food. I saw her first, although ill, my grandma. Then I and my four children saw her lying there, gone. I looked and was impressed that she no longer inhabited her aged worn out body. What was left was the shell that had finished what it was there for and no longer could contain her. My strong feeling was that my grandma - the real alive person that I knew, had gone somewhere else. I didn't need to say good bye to her body. I truly believe she still is very much alive, in another place.


Through this time, and being able to share it with my children, I have been impressed by the temporariness of our life. I truly feel that a single period in our lives, or a brief encounter, cannot and should not carry all the meaning that makes us who we are. I feel the shallowness of the focus on making our bodies impressive, the elevation of super models and actresses and actors. When I think about it, why do we choose these sorts of people to hold up as models for ourselves? We are looking at the surface - how they look, how they carry themselves, how they make others perceive them, neglecting the true models around us who care for others in small but significant ways.

I believe this applies to my photography. I dearly love to create. Certain colors, textures, lines, shapes in combinations, inspire me. I care about individual people, and I believe each individual is a beautiful person, full of depth, a person with a dynamic story. Because of this, I do not care to over glamorize when I edit. I do not like super smooth flawless skin. I do not care for perfectly matching outfits with everyone in some sort of static pose. But I do value harmonization of colors, posing so people are flattered (remember we are turning 3 dimensional people into a 2 dimensional picture that can't change afterwards), and simply enjoying individuals interacting with each other or having fun.



(This one was captured by probably my son in the back seat as we drove home. I thought it captured the long drive. My husband flew up to join us last Saturday so he could drive back with us Monday and Tuesday. It was lovely to see him after 1 1/2 weeks away!)

A last thought. I really believe that people of all ages are intended to reside together. The young learn and appreciate the old; the old appreciate life more when regularly surrounded by the vitality of young children; younger children learn from older ones; older ones learn to value what the younger ones contribute. I think it is a very sad phenomenon in our culture that we segregate so much. It starts in the schools and extends up into retirement communities. Part of it is our focus on independence. But what are we losing in the process?

I'm still trying to catch up on everything here. I have a few photos to post from a family session I did before leaving, and then a wedding my husband and I photographed on Saturday (not to mention editing them all).

I want to challenge you today to look around you and appreciate someone. It is often in the little things that we find and give vitality and joy.