My why has a lot to do with my family. Let me tell you about them.
My mother’s parents died before I was born. I almost feel as though I know them through the stories my aunts, uncles, and older cousins tell, but never actually knowing them has always pained my heart. Growing up, I would hear classmates and friends talk about their grandparents and the adventures they shared with them, and I’d always wonder what that was like. I was always a little jealous.
My parents, aunts and uncles were determined to do their best to fill the void of our grandparents, so we would never know the difference. Not so we wouldn’t miss them, just so we would know how deeply loved we were. And, we knew it. Between my parents and my aunts, uncles, and cousins, someone was at every game, every performance. They were deeply involved in our lives. Our hearts, our hurts were important to them and we knew it.
Despite this warmth and love, I actually don’t remember a lot of my childhood. I can recall bits and pieces, but it’s either a blur, or entirely overshadowed by the memory of watching my brother lie in a hospital bed after we were in a car accident with our dad (It wasn’t his fault). That experience – the wandering in and out of his room, wondering if he would live – had a deep impact on how I view relationships, how I view seemingly mundane events and moments.
Before the tears start flowing, let me tell you the most incredible part of that story – he lived. My brother lived, thrived, and did everything the doctors told him he would never do again. Whenever I used to remember that time, my heart shuddered at the thought of losing him. When I think of that time now, I am profoundly grateful for the way God used that time to teach me to value my siblings, the small moments, and the simple joys of just being together.
I’m realizing now just how sad this is, but I want you to know I don’t tell these stories for your sorrow or sympathy. They are hard parts of my life story, but these hardships have brought such joy and perspective to my life; I’d be remiss if I didn’t share them with you.
You Must Be a Mom
My why is about cherishing simple moments with our families, spouses, and siblings. About praising God for the beauty, pain, and lessons graciously learned through all of them. It’s about documenting those moments for you in a way that allows you to just be. When I first picked up a camera, it wasn’t with the intention of becoming a professional photographer (although that soon followed). It was with the purpose of memorializing a time that stirred my heart intensely. This is my why. Small moments matter.