Top: May 2005 // Nikon FM2n, Nikkor 50 f/1.8
Above: July 2023 // Nikon D700, Nikkor 35 f/2
Above: July 2023 // Nikon D700, Nikkor 35 f/2
Light moments, particularly meaningful ones, have been saving grace during funerals. When we buried a dear aunt in Colorado in 2005, I wandered away from the crowd and found my niece and nephew playing fetch with a friendly pup nearby. They were too young to fully understand why we all were gathered on a beautiful May morning. To them, the cemetery was a new place to find fun, which softened my somber mood. Today was a different sort of tough. I drove a few hours into the countryside to gather with hundreds of mourners in tribute to a woman who stole the hearts of all who knew her—including mine. Five years ago, she reached for my hand as she struggled with addiction. I walked with her for a year, enduring more nightmares than I ever could have imagined. The demons grew stronger in the years since, finally claiming her life last week. All of us knew the call would come eventually, though we hoped it never would. We'll forever miss the light she cast on the world, but we comforted each other today knowing that she's finally at peace. While driving home, I passed a park where we used to meet. Sometime during the pandemic, an installation went up on the south side of the lake. The large sign says, "you are beautiful." Believing that she was wanted, worthy, good enough, beautiful was central to her life struggle. Cast in the bright light of a hot afternoon in Kansas, it was just the message I needed. I hope she believes it now.
