Gratitude - It really is the little things
2019 has been a gentle reminder to look for the small pleasures and special moments that each day brings. It has reminded me to be grateful for the blessings of another day and given me greater clarity that it really is the little things in life that bring the greatest joy.
In early February I had the pleasure of attending the Click Away Photography Conference in California. It was an inspiring and energizing 3 days of learning, photographing and networking with an amazing group of female photographers from around the world. I had the pleasure of working closely with this incredibly talented and empowering group during the conference. Their enthusiasm and joy were uplifting, and I believe we helped elevate each other’s work and bring our creative visions to new levels. This conference revitalized my passion for my craft and reinforced why I do what I do – to bring you lasting memories of your special life stories. I’m grateful for these ladies, this conference and its teachings and the gift of photography.
Little did I suspect however that a week after returning home from that conference, my entire world was about to implode. On Monday, February 18, 2019, my brother Kerry passed at the age of forty. There was no warning, no notice. One second he was here smiling, laughing boisterously, playing his guitar and the next second, he was gone. Our hearts are forever shattered. You never envision losing a sibling; they’re supposed to be part of your past, your present and your future. In the six months since his passing, life has been a very different reality.
Kerry was a great supporter of my art and one of my biggest fans. Losing him has significantly influenced my perspective as a photographer. It has given me even greater clarity on why I do what I do and the importance of having those special photos of your family. Those photos of family and friends with Kerry and the memories and feelings they invoke are what I’m holding dear in my heart. I’m grateful for the time we shared with Kerry, my family and our cherished memories.
Photography is my gift and being able to capture your memories and your stories is even more significant to me now. So, with my head held high, my camera in hand, I will continue to do as Kerry would have wanted – “Kerry” on. I can still hear him saying in his not so accurate Yoda voice, “Party on, you must.”
I am grateful.