#hashtagcryingagain

Look at you.

Three weeks ago, I noticed you posting photos of your journey through this cancer and I told you if you ever wanted someone to photograph you to document this season of your life, that I would be more than happy to do so. You told me you would love it and asked me to photograph anything and everything whenever I came to the hospital. Looking back at this now, I don’t know why I ever thought this was a feasible idea considering I leave my house at 6:20 every morning and get home at 7 (or 8 or 9 or 10) every night with my work schedule. I came on weekends, though, and the last time I came to photograph you, you had me transfer the photos from your phone onto my laptop. Did you know you were going to leave 9 days later?

I’m sorry that the one weekend I didn’t come visit you was the last weekend you’d have in this life. I know you don’t want me to feel bad, but I can’t help it.

I made the slideshow video that played at your funeral today. 150 photos isn’t enough to show just how big of an influence you were-- as a teacher, husband, father, brother, and coworker. If you don’t believe me, this picture was taken at least 14 years ago. 

Today, 19 of the faces that were with you in this photo showed up to your memorial service, and your funeral, and your burial. That’s so weird to say, by the way. We (your former students) were talking about it today, and you never picture attending your old Sunday School teacher’s graveside service-- at least not until they’re like, old and cripply, you know? But even then, there really aren’t many teachers out there whose students would show up to their funeral after 10 or so years of not being their teacher. It’s just uncommon. But what can we say? We just loved all the crazy voices you had when you read us Bible stories. We applaud you for your patience with us when we got distracted and off-topic during your lessons. And of course, we’ll never forget how cool we thought you were for being the first person we knew who owned a handheld PDA that had a stylus.

Anyway, I know you wanted me to photograph anything and everything, but honestly this was such a difficult task. There is no easy way to go about photographing a person at a hospital, or people at a funeral. It’s just awkward. And people stare at you, even when you actually have permission. I remember about a month ago when I found out about your cancer, it was around the same time that I was asked to photograph a memorial service for a baby. I remember sending a text to someone saying, “The most recent Google searches on my laptop are ‘How to Photograph a Memorial Service’ and ‘Gifts to Give Someone with Cancer’. What has my life come to”. Needless to say, it’s been a crazy month.

Though I wish that your #SenJourney would have ended differently, on this side of eternity, here are some of those photos (mourner-friendly) documenting the past few weeks.