maternity, Lompoc, babies, flowers, sunset, wings, vans, 2016
Dawn Kincade
Waiting for our boy....

Whitney and Kevin are awaiting the birth of their first child.

Waiting for our boy....

evan

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A Zookeeper of Introverts

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Today would have been your 33rd trip around the sun. I’m not going to lie; I’m sad you aren’t here. I’m sorry that you are missing all the things. Part of the process of the completion of our relationship with Grief Recovery is talking through our hopes, dreams, and expectations, and I’m grateful to have processed those things. Still, those feelings can surface on days like today, and I must face the grief of you not being here. I’ve learned a lot over the last two years, and I often feel like a broken record when sharing about Grief Recovery. I share because I know of loss, and everyone is walking out their losses individually. I can listen and be a heart with ears. I’m also grateful to have processed such a painful loss as Evan’s death. Pain does not equal love. Carrying painful feelings is not how love carries on. Sweet memories and funny stories, along with the love of family and friends, being truthful about what hurts, and not running away from painful feelings by doing things that help me not feel them. (overeating, drinking, shopping, and isolation) I’ve done that too long, which is part of the problem. So, at this moment, I am heartbroken, and I miss you. There is a hollow place in our family because you are not here. I can’t pretend it’s not there; part of that reality’s truth is to say it. Happy Birthday to you! You’re missed every day, especially at this time of year.

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Bereaved Mother's Day

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Today marks my seventh year acknowledging Bereaved Mother's Day, the first Sunday in May. Much has changed since I first wrote a blog about bereaved motherhood. How that feels as I look at this day and all the many people I know and who I've met over the seven years who have lost a child, either through miscarriage or premature childhood death or adult children that have passed away, I know for a certainty that this was not a club that I joined voluntarily nor is it one others would join on their own. Although time has passed, I feel, on some level, that I've turned a corner. My enormous feelings are still just as acute and just as honest as they were on that first Mother's Day without Evan. There has been much that I have tried to regain through counseling and the completion of my relationship with Evan through the Grief Recovery Method; as Mother's Day approaches, the missing him is not different; that feels the same, and no amount of counseling or processing or logic will change that. My fond memories and my love will last a lifetime.

To all the moms I've met along this path, thank you for being a voice of encouragement to me. Thank you for seeing me and sharing your love for your child with me. I'm grateful for your friendship and your acquaintance. In general, grieving parents are misunderstood. To a world that wishes for us to be OK, we are OK. We have someone we love very much, our child, die, and until you can feel that pain, it's challenging to understand. We don't need pity, and we don't need fixing. We need to share our story and to be listened to. You may have moved on about our child, but we haven't, and not speaking about them tells us a lot. I'm grateful for the training I've gone through with The Grief Recovery Method. It has given me the new tools I need to help others experiencing loss and allowed me to be available for them to share their story and complete their losses. I'm thinking of you on this Bereaved Mother's Day.

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Milestones and a Rebranding

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This week marks two years since my last radiation treatment, and most say I’ve been cancer-free. My heart always hesitates to say that, as cancer is tricky. Cancer, for me anyway, always seems to be lurking in the background. I’m thankful for the medical technology that has allowed me to have the treatments I need. I’m also grateful that I live in a country where I have the choices I do medically to decide what I need or want and the freedom I still have to choose. So with those choices, I have fulfilled my desire to help others as they navigate not just grief but losses of any kind, including loss of health.

I rebooted my brand earlier this year after training in Grief Recovery. I decided to do a new logo and take a look at what I want to accomplish on this side of loss. So I had photos done of myself, and I wanted a logo that communicated what I wanted to bring to those suffering loss. You can’t use old keys to open new doors. So I want to give people tools/keys so that they have what they need to complete their loss. Photography will still be a tool I use to express my feelings and to help others capture life. It just will play a supporting role now. I want to thank Kristen McGregor for her graphic artist skills and Lynda Kennedy Photography for her branding photography.

I want to thank my husband, who always sees the vast potential in me that I often overlook. To my son Alex who has also been a cheerleader and support on the days when I felt like I could not see the good, you are my sunshine. To all the health professionals who have cared for me during these last two years but even before that, I’m grateful for your heart and skills. To my family and friends, I’m glad to have you in my corner; although I know, sometimes it can be exhausting, thanks for standing with me. Finally, to Evan, I’m unsure if the stress of your passing had anything to do with my cancer as we are finding more research saying that our bodies keep the score when we are suffering loss/grief. Still, you are one of my best motivators to help others in their suffering. Thanks for that. We miss you every day!

More to come as I start the work on my website and continue facilitating The Grief Recovery Method in my community. I’ve added a link if you want to join in the new year. https://www.griefrecoverymethod.com/content/valley-church-1673487900

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Turning the Page

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In January of 2022, my word for the year was Resolve.

Resolve

1. settle or find a solution to (a problem, dispute, or contentious matter).

2. decide firmly on a course of action.

3. firm determination to do something. ~braveness~courage~spunk~steadfastness~persistence

When I chose that word for 2022, I had no idea that the year ahead would set me on the course I am now on and, I believe, the reason I can move toward the future.

While on Facebook in January, I found a friend's post about a Grief Recovery program. I shared this in a recent blog.Being a Heart with Ears

So in August, I decided to pursue polishing my "brand," so to speak. With newly acquired training in the Grief Recovery Method, I plan to make grief recovery part of what I want to share with the world, with photography being the expression that I share that connects me to nature and people. As a person grieving, I want to hold space for others trying to understand loss and all the feelings associated with grief.

So I began the process of fine-tuning my website and having photos taken of myself with a photographer. For me, this was a big step. To trust the process of branding myself with others is what I thought would be fun and easy (it started that way), but as the days leading up to the photo shoot came, I could feel myself wanting to scream at the top of my lungs "why are you doing this?" and loads of other questions and doubts. I can say with some certainty that it was grief. These step towards the future was me mourning the loss of what I was; to a rebranded me.

In thinking about that process, I saw myself looking back, and the secondary losses of the last six years came RUSHING back, and I was overwhelmed with big emotions. All of us are grievers, and we are experiencing that grief at 100%. So for me to articulate this experience to the average reader, it can get lost, and it's ok. This is just my journey, and I share it to give understanding and to invite you into the process.

On the day of the shoot, I had a text from a dear friend whose photos motivated me to reach out to the photographer who did my photos. Even thinking of that exchange with my friend is very emotional. She is more family than a friend, but her words helped me process my big emotions and talk me off the ledge. The day was filled with tears for many reasons that I've yet to process entirely, but the day ended well with yummy Mexican food with my husband and a greater understanding of myself as I move forward. Resolve is a word that has captured my year so far. With just a few months til year's end, Resolve has been the perfect choice for 2022.

I want to thank Lynda Kennedy for her vision and care for my photos. Thanks for holding space for my past and bringing them into my future. To my makeup artist Corrine Boicelli who took an emotional, grieving woman and made me look beautiful. Great conversation too! My door is always open to talk about grief and loss. A reworked website is coming soon.

Mosaic of Seasons

"Winter is an etching, spring a watercolor, summer an oil painting, and autumn a mosaic of them all." Stanley Horowitz

I love this quote as it is a lovely word picture of the seasons and the different art mediums. Fall brings cooler weather, leaves changing, shorter days, and the smell of rain in the air. On the other hand, spring brings the brightest flowers, warmer weather, longer days, and the scent of new beginnings. Fall brings an end to the cycle that will begin again when spring returns. It's part of the journey, and yet we so look forward to spring, at least I do. Fall brings changes and those feelings of loss and grief for me.

This Saturday will mark the last birthday I spent with Evan here on this planet five years ago. It's one of the many birthday memories I have of us as a family, and as I begin this new year, it's a longing to be together that never leaves me. The internet isn't always kind when we see all the family's celebrating birthdays, anniversaries, and other special events, and I am ALWAYS repeating the same photos and feelings. This time of year is hard. I woke up the other day, and this overwhelming sense of grief came over and had me crying into my pillow until the sunrise. The days between tears have gotten longer. Softer. But they're still very hard. Sad. Painful. I read this article about Grief Math and had often wondered if these calculations I do on the future anniversaries and such are just a quirky thing that I do, but I've come to realize that it's a thing. That helped me feel ok about what I do.

So Saturday, I begin my next trip around the sun, and with that, I've come out on the other side one-year cancer-free. YAY! I've recovered from radiation and C*vid, and I've learned who can be trusted and who will see me through when the going gets tough. That has been the most painful and most challenging lesson for me. Just as in the earlier parts of grief, you come to realize who can be in it for the long haul, and you find that most of the time, when you go to lean back, the community has left you, and just a few are left to hold your heart. You also learn that the people who dare to stand with you are the people that have similar wounds that you do. Those people understand, and if your space is filled with a few of these precious souls, you are luckier than most.

So I walk into this birthday, feeling slightly anxious about what the future holds but more resolute to follow my path and with the feelings of grief and loss still right on the surface, ready to wake me in the early morning hours to have me watch for the sunrise.

John and Alex, thanks for always talking me off the edge. You both always find a way to carry my heart even though you, too, are walking out your grief.

Making Space

Recently I met with a friend, and one of the things that I love about our time together is she helps to complete my circle of grief. I'm not saying that because it completes my circle that my grief is linear or circular. It's just that when we talk, she makes space for my tears. When we chatted, we talked about all of the new things that seem to be happening within our group of people. She also lets me verbalize that my writing about my journey had tapered off. My words that once had jagged edges had begun the process of being smooth, and with that smoothing comes a sadness.

Raw grief is edgy. It's vocal. It gave me a voice, but now it has grown quiet. For the most part, the world around me is grateful for the quiet. Yet there are others that are on the front end of their grief. They don't have a voice of their own. I believe that I give them a voice.

So that brings me to my friend. The grief she carries is similar to mine. She sees the devastation of a future without our person. She is reminded of others within our circle who, although it's not spoken, the loss and emptiness left behind are fresh and new as each birthday is celebrated and each wedding attended. We can see the love of our person in each of the people that have been left behind, and we can see how very much we miss him. So inevitably, when we are together, tears are freely shared. The language of love, grief, and longing are the words spoken.

I'm grateful for these coffee dates, for they give us both space to feel all that is within us that doesn't have room in the large crowds around us. I believe they are an oasis for us both. Thank you for making space for me. I miss Evan every day, and I'm so thankful for the days that when I miss him, and I'm with you, I don't have to cry alone.

Empty Arms

Recently I started a birth and bereavement doula course, and I'm currently in the last two modules. The particular module I'm in now, we are talking about the emotional experiences of having a baby in the NICU. One of the exam questions is to choose from the list of 10 experiences one that could have a similar feeling if a child is born sleeping. So much about these emotional experiences are similar to the loss of my almost 26-year-old son. I've learned not to compare losses as when you do that; someone will always have something less or more of what you've experienced. Each loss is unique, as each person is unique. Give space for each loss and hold the heart and hand of that person so that they feel heard, understood, and valued. 

While reading through these experiences, I felt like I could identify with nearly all of them, and yet the question asked me to choose one. I decided on the word derealization, which for the parent of a NICU baby the emotional experience can be so overwhelming for them, that they find themselves in denial, forgetting, or suppressing important information that was spoken to them. Even if they appear to practice active listening, repeating things often can be helpful, along with keeping a journal of things mentioned and questions to ask. (reference from StillBirth Day)

This module, in particular, really has me thinking deeply about the painful process of birth, loss, and bereavement as it feels so very real. It had me thinking back to our days in the hospital and all the information that came our way that I heard but did not process. So much of my time in the hospital was spent with all the people: Evan's friends, Alex's friends, our friends, fielding Facebook messages so much of the processing of vital information was processed by John and Alex cause honestly, it was too much for me. The entire process of it was too much. It's hard to understand unless you’ve walked that long lonely hallway. I can never truly articulate to my husband or my son how much love I have for them. They showed me during that time, what unconditional love looks like as it was walked out during the darkest of days. It wasn't easy for them either. My husband never left Evan's room the entire time he was in the hospital. Alex always was caring for us. Both of them handled the most challenging parts of those days.

Life and death are fragile and fleeting. Whether we are talking about a baby born sleeping or a nearly 26-year-old son whose brain has stopped working but whose organs help save the lives of 5 people. Say your words — even the hard ones to those you love. Reach out to that momma who's arms are left empty because of her loss. Be a light in a world that so desperately needs it.

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Just a few of the highlights of 2019

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I often wonder what the highlights look like when you're a photographer. Is it the number of clients you had? or is it by how you've improved over the previous year? Maybe it is the number of followers you've acquired, and yet for some, it may be the amount of money you made. My highlights are the ones that make me smile on days when I’m unsure if there is a smile left in me. They are the highlights that bring back the sights, sounds, and smells of that moment.

We live in an age now, where everyone is a "photographer." Just one click gives you the ability to capture a moment. So this grouping of photos is my highlight reel. The images that helped me tell the story of 2019 for me. I captured a lot of babies and mommas. I saw families grow, and I saw young adults enter onto the pathway of adulthood. I enjoyed events and traveled hither and yon, but in all of that, I found a deep-rooted passion for telling the stories of life. I'm grateful for that and I hope you'll join me as I venture into 2020 with an ever-increasing passion and an ever-growing desire to communicate through photographs.

The several photos in this gallery I didn’t take but I am in them which is rare for those who are behind the camera. The last photo is the ever-present reminder that Evan is part of every highlight reel and that we miss him EVERY SINGLE DAY!

Happiest of New Year as we move into the next decade!

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Sunflowers among the weeds...International Bereaved Mother's Day 05/05/19

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Sunday, May 5th is International Bereaved Mother’s Day. I’ve done blog posts in the past, and after spending some time editing sunflowers that I happened upon here locally, I saw an opportunity to share in part what I saw while photographing these beauties.

Sunflower season here in Solano and Yolo Counties will be sometime in June, and yet I was able to find a few springing up in a field where they were last year. Sunflowers are one of my favorite flowers. I’ve added a few fun facts about them just to give you an understanding of how amazing they are. Sunflowers are used to demonstrate a mathematical term called a Fibonacci sequence. You can also see this sequence in artichokes and cauliflowers. While reading about this sequence in sunflowers researchers have found that the patterns can be inconsistent in sunflowers and quoting the article “real life is messy.” This is a truth that is lived out daily in the life of a bereaved parent and when speaking about loss and grief. https://www.sciencemag.org/news/2016/05/sunflowers-show-complex-fibonacci-sequences It is the only flower to have the word “flower” in its name. Sunflower removes toxins and is a natural decontaminator of soil. They have been used to clean up dirt at some of the biggest environments disasters, including Chernobyl and Fukushima. Sunflowers are native to the Americas. Some of these facts come from this article. https://www.thespruce.com/fun-facts-about-sunflowers-3972329 As you might now see sunflowers have a medicinal quality to them. They have been used to heal and remove toxins from soil. As I photographed these beautiful flowers, I was struck by the fact that even though they were growing among weeds, they thrived. I saw a few bees although they seemed to be moving slowly and possibly dying. So much about these flowers lead me to see myself and other bereaved mothers the same way.

These flowers were strong. Even though the weeds had dropped some of the seeds to strike down these flowers they still stood firm...strong almost like flower sentinels. They’re looking for the sun and following its course across the sky. They are beautiful. Some of their petals hidden from the sun but just as yellow and brilliant as the noonday sun. Some of these beauties had yet to open, and many of them winking so to speak as only a few of their petals had started to open.

This blog goes out to all of you who mourn the loss of your child/ren. You inspire me. Even amid your loss, you continue to move towards health. You still remind me that you are bright sunflower standing firm in your memories of your child/ren. You are learning that your loss has defined for you those things that are toxic and you move towards removing them from your path. Some of you are still trying to figure out what you need and yet, you persevere opening up just a few of your petals as you follow your path. The loss of your child will continue to shape each move you make. It will define who you are and why you do what you do. I pray that you continue to remain strong and resilient. Standing tall like a sunflower.

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For now that is enough...

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I’ve been away from my blog since before Christmas. Most days are filled with job responsibilities and regular household chores there is something in me that seems different not all together me. I keep thinking that things will get back to how they always were. That life as I’ve known it good or bad will return, and all will feel normal. Then I realize my life isn’t normal. It will never look like it did. My life will never have Evan in the spaces he usually occupied. EVER. I go back to those spaces hoping to find him…to sense his presence. It’s hard to describe to people how your mind works after your child has gone. I look at photos and think to myself it feels like he is here. But there is such an emptiness. There is such emptiness in the spaces he once inhabited. There is an emptiness in the world since he left. My words feel hollow…without real form or bones to help them take shape. I was driving this morning, and I had this feeling of everything continues, but yet my heart wants to go backward. I want to recapture what once was and bring it into the future to live with me here. I want Evan to come home. I’m learning to navigate the parts of me that are healing and the parts that are gaping wounds. I’m trying to find and listen to my voice and yet I want to be a voice for my son too so that he is not forgotten. Saturday mark many anniversaries-it’s my Dad’s 2nd birthday in Heaven. It also is 822 days since Evan was taken off life support to give life to 5 others. As I've walked out my journey, I also realize many parents/siblings that are walking out the same feelings, anniversaries, the same emptiness, the same longing that our family has. I say this for understanding. That I can bring you along with me as a conscientious/thoughtful/ observer.

To be mindful that we miss our person(s). That we want to hear their name. That you can't stop our pain. (IT WILL BE FOREVER) That we're not stuck. We are living each moment of each day with a wound that is healing but will always be there for us. Even if you can't see it. That you can show us love by sharing stories about our person. We're doing our best, and sometimes that may not be enough. For now, my soul is healing along with the soul of our family, and that is enough.

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Christmas Sweaters, Sheep Hats, and Songs Unsung.

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Most of my days are filled with busyness. My photography business is thriving in this season. My job keeps me busy with community stuff. We/I are surrounded by an extensive circle of friends and family. I’ve not written much over the last few weeks. Its very hard sometimes to convey the thoughts and pondering of a grieving parent. The holidays are filled with wonder and magic…grief although not part of the Christmas story it’s those early memories of birth and life that make the holidays at times so hard. This is our third Christmas without Evan and although softer the edges are still rough. https://whatsyourgrief.com/grief-made-you-cry-holiday-season/?fbclid=IwAR0hPT1OGomkWkK62J4EhRx34Kk84rWyPtbEGKudH5z84wR-t7jLkBSqN_4

Some of the sweet memories of long ago Christmas’ are not very fresh in my mind. It’s not until I go to a sweet school program and see children dressed in their holiday bests does the rush of memories return. Most days I can be present with friends who are enjoying seeing their kiddos perform the best and sweetest Christmas tunes. But in those moments the file cabinet opens, and the files start flying out. With that, I’m immediately ushered to a Christmas program from Pre-School or Kindergarten days with my boys. It was always something that was important to us to be at our kids' programs. Wise man costumes, Christmas sweaters, sheep hats and so much more. Most of my ponderings are melancholy. I miss those days and on some level miss that for Evan. I will never see these kinds of days played out with his kiddos. That the planet will not see songs sung by Evan’s kiddos. Yes, this is what this grieving mom thinks. I’m not alone in this thought. We miss the future, and we look to hold on to the past. Holidays are sticky that way especially when you have memories that are tied to traditions, and you’ve not started new ones cause it’s too painful to change the one thing you miss so much. We are trying new things and seeing what works and tweak them as we go. Maybe the thing that makes my heart sing and cry is that I choose to be present with friends who currently are experiencing these great moments. I see the love they have for their child and the special way their heart sings when they see their kiddo perform. It takes me back to those moments and just for a split second I’m transformed to that time in history when I too had a heart that sung and burst with love for my kiddos as they performed.

Road Noise

As I continue down the road of grief I am struck by the things that take me from such great joy to weepy tears. I'm not even sure how to quantify it or give it a number on a scale. I spend a lot of time reading and listening to books. As I've shared in other posts I am listening to a book on Heaven and a book on waiting. Both of these areas in my life have been a struggle. Kinda like that kid that wants to be president at the place that they work even before they learn how to count back change at the register.  As I've said in previous blogs Heaven has always been abstract to me and because my faith points me to Jesus and the bible I don't really want to speculate about it. I want to know what the bible says as that is foundational...my center. On top of reading/listening to many books I am attending a faith-based small group on grief called Grief Share.  All these things keep me a float...keep me moving...processing. They keep me reaching out to grasp what is really not something you can grasp. So what it does is give me strength. It gives me Faith to look beyond what I can see and it gives me Hope that what I think and believe are Truth and that at some point it will bring peace and understanding. 

Roads are a funny thing. I've spent most of the summer on the road either on the east coast or west coast but always on the road. I went on a road trip this last weekend and we had times on this trip where the highway was smoothly paved. The road noise was minimal. You could hear the stereo in the car without having to crank it up and the skies were clear....smooth sailing so to speak. We then had places where the road was so rough from years of weather and chains from vehicles that you could not even hear yourself think. You couldn't hear the radio. You couldn't even have a conversation as the noise in the car was so loud and storms that nearly blinded you as you drove down country roads in the dark. Sometimes you turn down a road that you think is the right one and all of a sudden you are at a dead end. You make a plan that you are going to leave at a certain time. You stop just to get food and go to the bathroom no extra stops just to realize it took you about the same amount of time as it did when you enjoyed the journey. Stopped and looked at the sights. Made memories and took your time.

I share all of this because grief is very similar to the road trips I've been on and to be perfectly honest life is this way as well. It takes me to places I didn't want to go. Sometimes I enjoy where I'm going and the effects of it leave me refreshed and my burden is lightened. Sometimes the noise is so loud I can't hear what is being said to me and I zone out. Sometimes I just want to get home...to do it my way. I forget about all the beauty that is around me and if I had just stopped...walked around...and practiced pondering I would have gotten home in just the right amount of time and enjoyed the journey.

Evan, we love and miss you so very much. Every memory is bittersweet and filled with the what if's and why not's. As I travel this road I hope to have less of those questions but for now...It is September and that means that you have been gone 10 months....but really it is for eternity.    e·ter·ni·ty  əˈtərnədē/ ~  noun ~ infinite or unending time. 

http://www.visitcalifornia.com/attraction/sundial-bridge

https://www.amazon.com/Real-Heaven-What-Bible-Actually/dp/0801016134 

https://www.amazon.com/Wait-See-Finding-Peace-Pauses/dp/0781413559

http://albanycarousel.com

Solar Eclipse of 2017

Summer always brings a trip to see my folks in South Carolina. This year, as in years past, I went to our family reunion in Pennsylvania. I went this year without my parents and my Dad's absence was felt by all but especially by me. I was fortunate to have my dear friend go with me and we sang, and joked, and dodged massive thunderstorms. 

One of the highlights of my visit to see my mom this year was the fact that the Solar Eclipse of 2017 was passing through South Carolina and was less than an hour and half from my mom's house. So I had to choose whether I wanted to drive 10 hours and countless traffic jams to go to Oregon or drive an hour and half on the country road of South Carolina. So I extended my stay in South Carolina so that I could be a part of something that I will not be alive to see when it happens again.

I spent every available moment researching to find the right place to capture this event. When I went out the Saturday before the eclipse I found a little city along the path of totality. The city of Clinton is just southwest of Charlotte and was close to my brother's home. I didn't want to have to deal with all of the people going to the larger cities in the path of totality such as Greenville, Columbia or Charleston so this little town was the perfect fit. 

When I ventured out Monday the plan changed slightly cause I was trying to out run the clouds that threatened the skies. I started my way to Clinton but ended up in Whitmire which is right off of the highway just before Clinton. I set-up all my gear and just as I did that a large cloud came overhead and it began to drizzle. I decided I still had time (about 20 minutes) to move further southwest closer to Clinton proper. I headed down the highway and happened upon a little country church where I saw another group of folks watching and the skies were clear. I parked and set-up my gear and determined that this would be the spot for me as the eclipse was beginning. A few of the folks I met were on their way home to Vero Beach, Florida and they had stopped to watch. One of the parishioners of the church came by just to say Hi! The locals had heard that people had stopped by their church so they were curious about the people who had camped out in the parking lot. 

As I began to photograph this spectacular event just before totality began a crazy storm cloud approached and covered the sun. I was so disappointed as I thought I had missed the biggest part of the event. I kept shooting although through clouds I didn't want to miss anything. This was a difficult shooting opportunity for me as there was so many different elements and weather conditions to accommodate. Many of the shots aren't focused well as the clouds and changes cause camera shake. As I reviewed and edited the photos my thought was that I did capture some great moments and although not perfect I did my best and I know that my husband and my sons would be proud of what I accomplished. 

I hope that you enjoy these photos it was such a great adventure. Thanks Zachary and his family for sharing the day with me and to my brother Shawn who helped me scout out my location and to the people of South Carolina thanks for the hospitality.                                                           

.......The heavens proclaim the glory of God. The skies display his craftsmanship.   Psalm 19:1

Thank you, Mom. I can't wait to see what you capture next....

Last year I was challenged to take my art out into the world. This challenge came in the form of a letter written from Evan but I had also many friend who told me I should try. So I did and it was successful. I placed in many of the shows I entered and won small monetary prizes for those placements. I'm glad that I did it and it helped me see a different side of photography....

I was unsure if this year I would be up to the task of placing my photography in the numerous shows that I had last year. Some of my motivation was that Evan and Alex really helped to move me forward and honestly putting your work in shows is time consuming. But I felt that I had a few piece that I could enter and my motivation was different this year so I entered a few shows along with entering the California State Fair. I've included those piece in this blog post.

Being an artist is unique and beautiful. It can also be demanding and test you in ways that you thought impossible. Sometimes I think that it was more then I bargained for this thing I do. I want to say that since the loss of Evan my world has changed...I can't really describe it but I feel the full impact of my loss every single day. I was out yesterday and nearly every place that I went or drove past had a memory of something or brought back to me a conversation I had with Evan. The other night I was out looking for picture frames for photos that I was placing in an art show I ran into some dear friends who asked, How are you??? Well at that moment I was deep in the process of trying to get frames and I was great but as I talked further I was grateful to get through a conversation about how I was without tears. Please don't take that the wrong way...for me that is a step forward in my healing. I want to be at a place that the very conversation about Evan does not destroy me.....crumble me to a "bucket of tear"so to speak...."grief ambush" as it's called in my small group study that I'm doing. I want to be able to have conversations that invite people towards me...to not be afraid to see people or have them avoid me or feel awkward. To be real grief is scary....and awkward...and crummy but it is also part of the process of loving and being loved. I'm grateful to have loved Evan and that he loved me too. There is so much joy in that...if I hadn't loved there would be no sadness or this grief that I have. Maybe that is what is different is the full impact of our love is felt in loss. Yes...I think that's what is different is that I know that if I love fully the full impact of the loss of that becomes very clear and painfully real. It goes back to something I believe the Lord is showing me.

For now we see only a reflection as in a mirror.....1 Cor. 13:12. 

 

We Back the Blue.

Earlier in June we had the great honor to celebrate as a dear friend graduated from the police academy. His hard work and determination paid off as he walked across the stage and was presented his badge. It had been a long 6 months and one that was marked by great accomplishment but also great sadness. Christopher had been accepted into the program about the time our son, his dear friend, was in an auto accident that left him brain dead. It was a difficult time for all of us and yet in it a great thing emerged. Christoper started the program and 6 months later he is starting his job as a police officer. 

I'm grateful to be included in such a time of celebration and I look forward to the great things he will accomplish in the months and years ahead. Best Wishes, Christopher! We love you! 

Giving Comfort

The month of June has zipped by and I am finally able to stop and catch my breath. In the process of me catching my breath I have also found that the busyness has kept me from the full extent of my sadness. I've learned to navigate this part of my life as the spaces that I inhabit don't always allow me the opportunity to go there. I will hear a song, see a photo or just be reminiscing of moments I've experienced that bring me to the brick wall that is my grief. It stops me and as I'm shaking off the fact that I've run full force into it...it looks at me unshaken and with not a blemish that I have hit it and all the while I'm left beaten and battered trying desperately to get my balance and footing. Some times it is much more subtle...not as much of an assault but more sly...in the midst of great laughter and fun it sneaks in and crumbles me to a sentence I use often..."a bucket of tears". 

This month I've felt like I was being taking on a ride that I thought would be fun. It had all the makings of good times and loads of happy moments but for me, in this season I can't help but think of the missed moments I will not have. I know...bummer but this is my journey and it is at times very much a bummer. I miss seeing my son with a group of his friends as they celebrate a great accomplishment of one of their own. I reminisce about what his response would be....and think about just how happy he would be for this dear friend. I think often of those who miss him but are really not sure what to do or what to say and I wonder...What does a 20-something do with their grief? I think of some of the dearest people I know that as they look at me from across a room and wonder about this journey they are on with me as they can't fathom the depth of my sorrow but are walking with me. I think of the many near and far who reach out almost daily with texts, Facebook messages, hugs and love. 

As I sat in church today and listened to our pastor lead worship and preach from the psalms. The message from Psalm 142 as David is hiding out from those who would want to capture and destroy him. I was brought to tears thinking of not only my own heartache but that of my husband and son too. As I am weeping in church as his message and worship are striking a cord I receive this text from a dear friend of Evan's~"Hi my sweet Dawn. I am thinking of you now and missing Evan so much. Crying out to God (while literally crying haha) and I just take this moment to honor him and wanted to tell you he is on my heart so much and so are you. I know God is showing us something so big right now, I hope to grasp it soon so I won't be so sad. Love you so much". As I watched as my own pastor can't proceed with his message as he too thinks of the things that his sheep are going through and like any shepherd his heart is turned towards them. As I get a hug from a friend who knows me and knows my story her hug is so close I can hear the beat of her heart...to a sweet new friend who only knows me on social media but comes over and holds me...no word are necessary...as I weep. Then I think of the beautiful sunset last night among my sunflower fields that I believe are God's gift to me...cause those faces are just the best thing in all the world. I know that all of this and more are part of my journey. Part of the steps I walk in my healing. That the tears that I cry don't go unseen. That God because of His great love for us sends these, that are giving comfort, as only the God of the universe can do. 

Mother's Day for those who are bereaved.....

Today is International Bereaved Mother's Day https://goodmenproject.com/families/the-importance-of-international-bereaved-mothers-day-bbab/ 

As I think about Evan and the loss of him I can't help but think of all the other parents but especially Mom's who have lost a child. It is never easy..it continues to hurt...but we keep moving inch by inch..moment by moment. The immense love that we felt is only made harder but the immeasurable sadness we feel with our loss. 

Yesterday when I got home from work we had received a letter from the Donor Network. The folks who connect donor families to the people who have received their loved one's organs. In God's great mercy and because of His great love for us...this letter arrived this week. The great excitement that this recipient has experienced from receiving Evan's heart....that it has brought him back from the brink of death has made it is so very bittersweet for me. I'm so glad that he felt safe enough to contact us. That he has shared how his life has been immediately changed. How he is doing all that he can to live a health life and use the gift that he received to tell other to give the same gift. I can't help but be so overwhelmingly mournful of our great loss. 

With that said...We would not change the course that has taken place with Evan doing what was in his heart....and that was to be an organ donor. I'm proud of him and his very clear and direct decision to donate his organs. We continue to see God's hand in all of it and never once have thought this was not what Evan would have wanted. So as I close out this blog on this day that many are struggling to understand why and what can this all mean...let me encourage you. Hold your head up as well as you can...I know from experience it is not always easy...be present in the everyday...and if you can, think about giving the gift of life through being an organ donor. You could change the course of someones life. I know that it did for Lee.  https://www.donornetworkwest.org

Taking to the open roads of North Carolina....

On Friday I woke up and wanted to see something beautiful.  I'm rather partial to water features so I found out that there are lovely waterfalls less than 3 hours from Charlotte. So I took off with my camera, some snacks, and water to the Pisgah National Forest. It wasn't until I stopped at Starbuck's in Hendersonville, NC that I realized I forgot my wallet. Not only that but I had about a half of a tank of gas. UGH.... anyway, I kept going towards the mountains and arrived at the national forest. I stopped and looked at the map by the rangers station and made a plan to go look at a few of the falls that have made this region famous. The map and info provided below courtesy of Pisgah National Forest Ranger Station.

 

I made my way towards Looking Glass Falls, which is just inside the park. The great thing about it was that you can observe the falls from your car it’s that close. I ventured out of my car though and walked down to get a closer view. The roar of the water was so refreshing for a brisk nearly spring day. I thought a lot about my boys. I wish I could give you a quick thumbnail of my thoughts but there where too many. Mostly that I miss Evan….nothing new there. Mostly I feel for Alex and that adventures that could have been will not be with his brother. I thought of my extended family and that of my husband. As I drove along I thought of my husband also as I saw so many people fly-fishing along the waters edge. It was a beautiful day with water.…my thoughts….and creation.

This was taking from the roadway.

During my brief adventure I also went to Looking Glass Rock that was not too far from the falls. When I stopped and got out to take a few photos in the distance I saw one of the native birds of this area a Peregrine Falcons. I’ve been having a few encounters with falcons lately and the beauty of that is it gives me a sense of connecting with Evan. It is as if the Lord allows it just to give me a sense of comfort. The Lord does this so often for me as I’m out in creation. It's worship really…I can hear Him. He lets me know that he’s near…that He sees my longing…that He know that my heart is searching…looking for my boy. I’ve done a little bit of studying about falcons but truly I’m not looking for anything supernatural….I’m just looking for the Lord to show me what He wants me to see and to find comfort in the connect He makes with me. My hope is that you see the beauty that I see and that you too can see Jesus in what I share.

 

Tristan William Lee.....the smallest gifts bring such great joy.

I've been fortunate to have several dear friends who have had babies in the last month. Oh my goodness how I love watching new families move through the welcoming of an infant into their lives. So many new things to see and figure out not the least of which is feeding schedules and sleeping...oh precious sleep. 

I had the pleasure to go over to Blake and Chelsea's home to photography Tristan. He was just as sweet as when I saw him briefly in the hospital. He was already forming his own personality and was being watched over by his precious parents and grandparents. I'm grateful to Blake and Chelsea for allowing me to come over and be a part of such a major life event for their family. I've known Blake and his family for most of the 25+ years that I've lived in Vacaville and the fact that Blake and Evan have been friend through most of that time made this time of connection very special to me. 

Here are just a few of my favorites from the hospital and my home visit at about 10 days old with little Tristan William Lee Pullin....born three weeks early on January 25th, weighing 5 lbs. 11 ozs. and 18.5 inches long. 

First of many family photos. Much love to all of you.