Untold Story #2: CJ's Senior Casuals

My nephew CJ is about eighteen months older than my son Cade. Their personalities are very different, and they've always lived in different states, but they're close; my entire family is close, and CJ and Cade were the only grandchildren for more than five years.

I look at these senior casuals of CJ and get a little tearful not only because he's my dear one all grown up, but also because Cade is right on his heels.

It seems like just yesterday that I was pregnant for the first time. The pregnancy had been planned, but I was completely freaked out. At the time, I didn't have words for what was happening; now, I can tell you that I was experiencing panic attacks. My ex-husband asked what would make me feel better, and I begged him to send me to my brother, who was stationed in Hawaii at the time. My ex-husband bought me a plane ticket.

I remember so much of that trip in vivid detail. CJ was just under a year old and incredibly active, flying almost tirelessly around the first floor of their home in a walker. I watched the effort my brother and sister-in-law put into caring for CJ and despaired in my mind, thinking: I will never be able to do this. I returned from Hawaii feeling even more freaked out than I had before.

Of course, I hadn't put it together in my mind that babies don't come out crawling, climbing, and zipping around in a walker. What's more, kids are different, and CJ's a much busier sort than Cade. Jim and I always laugh recalling that--when we took CJ and Cade to Disney World--we heard very little out of Cade besides: "CJ, wait! Wait, CJ!"

It was my great pleasure--my greatest pleasure, actually--to take CJ's senior casuals. So much of my reward in learning how to use my camera is in being able to capture my own precious ones in my own way. My eyes and heart love this fun-loving young man, who burst into our family and paved a road all his own. I believe in who he is and who he is becoming, and I'm so thankful to be in his cloud of witnesses.

  

Celebrating Jay

Best I could, I celebrated the life of a friend, today. My mood (as you can see in the photo above) wasn't particularly celebratory, but neither was anyone else's. It was a sober occasion.

I met my friend in the blogosphere about a year ago upon googling something related to Richmond and photography. (I forget what, exactly.) This guy, he knew something about everything, and he knew a lot about photography. I've had a lot of questions over the course of the last year, and he was incredibly generous with his knowledge.

He was incredibly generous, in general. At every turn, he gave more than he took. He would meet me for dinner, answer questions until my mind couldn't hold any more answers, and pay the bill. Whatever questions I asked between dinners, he answered thoroughly, thoughtfully, immediately. And he seemed excited to be a go-to person for me, also genuinely excited by my growth as a photographer.

He was constantly affirming, constantly encouraging...so much so that I was a bit baffled. I wondered on more than one occasion: what's in it for this guy? Why is he being so...nice to me?

He read and commented on my blog faithfully and said often that my family reminded me of his, growing up. (He was one of four children.) I was 15-16 years younger than he, but he also remarked more than once that I reminded him of his mother. He missed her so much, he said. He loved me, he said, for bringing her back to him in certain ways.

Still, I wondered. It takes awhile for me to trust (really trust) someone. Years and years. A decade, maybe. And long before I had the chance to figure out my friend, he took his own life. He warned us it might happen, then told us why it did.

I attended a celebration of my friend's life, today, because I believe (really believe) in being a friend in death. I'm not going to guess or judge, I told myself; I'm just going. I have no idea what to expect, and I won't know a soul, but he was my friend. Whatever the situation that precipitated his suicide, he was my friend! He was never anything! but kind to me and, come to think of it, my entire family. (He helped move my older daughter's piano.)

And here's something I've said before: often, if people do things for others, expecting nothing in return and from a perfect place in their hearts, the Lord, in His great mercy, will reveal that they have done those things for themselves. Based upon the remembrances shared, today, I think my friend possessed an intimate understanding of this concept. He was the ultimate volunteer, they said. He showed up early and stayed late. We'll have a hard time replacing him, they said, and it may be impossible. Nothing made him happier than helping others.

And person after person said: he changed my life by believing in me.

Best I could, I celebrated the life of a friend, today. I wanted to be a friend until the bitter end. Then a tall man with a small Bible walked to the front of the room and reminded me: perseverance of the saints. (Google it.) This is not the end.

And thank goodness, because my friend was just as kind as he seemed.

Rest in peace, Jay. I will dearly miss your encouragement.

A New Venture

It's time. To learn more, please click the image below (or visit http://brandeeshaferphotography.blogspot.com) to travel to my brand-new, sister blog.

One Little, Two Little, Three Little

I'd intended from the start to photograph the girls there, and after Dad's and my last visit, my parents were excited, too. When I told Mom I wanted the girls to wear feathers in their hair, she perked up and said she had leather and beads and beautiful brown feathers, as a matter of fact, and could make headbands. I said I'd been thinking construction paper, but leather would be good. No brown feathers, though, I told her: bright red and yellow ones. Tacky.

She pretty much hates tacky but did as I asked. Then, mere hours before the shoot, she said: "I have a full costume one of us could wear. I made it years ago, for a costume party."

I laughed and said I didn't intend to dress up, and what would be the point, anyway, since I'd be behind the camera.

"Would it be okay if I wore it," she asked, "to have my photo taken with the girls?" and my heart skipped a beat because she was ever-so-slightly shy about it.

"Sure," I told her, and she sent my big kid into the closet after the costume. She looked so beautiful in it, too. Typical my mama: always put together. And I don't think she'd envisioned (even after my last set of photos) how far she'd have to hobble on her sore foot, but she did it. I couldn't love her more if I tried; she's just my kind of crazy, and we're all so blessed to have her.

Another Lesson from behind the Camera

I find I'm often at a loss in terms of what to do for Jim's birthday, so after Anjelina and I discovered that our men's birthdays are one day apart, I suggested we photograph one another and give Jim and Eric updated photos of their women. Anjie made appointments with her daughter Kelly Ann, a make-up artist. I arranged for Brooke to cut my hair a couple days before the "shoot," and on the big day, I wore contact lenses.

What I hadn't anticipated, in all my planning, was how sad I would feel on the day of the shoot. It had been a hard, hard week. I considered cancelling but didn't want to disappoint Anjie, who'd planned to treat Charleigh (for her birthday) on top of the rest. In hindsight, I'm glad I didn't cancel for many reasons, but one above all.

We'd been made up and at the park for a while before I asked Anjie to put her camera down and go stand near a bridge beside a patch of tall and wild grass. She hemmed and hawed: not much or for long, and not because she's shy but because she's way more comfortable behind the camera than in front of it.

In truth, I wasn't feeling any of it. I felt even less comfortable in front of the camera than usual; I hadn't made time to color my hair, and I knew my eyeballs were sad. And I felt insecure, suddenly, about photographing the photographer. I mean, this is hands-down one of the most talented people I know, and I was off. I knew I was off, and here I was trying something for which I may have felt ill-equipped even if I'd been on.

Then Anjie leaned into the bridge (folding her beautiful brown arms atop the rail) and looked directly into my lens. I found myself staring straight into the soul of this person I love, and the strangest thing happened: I started to cry.

So there I was. Snapping away, tears rolling.

It was such an unexpected thing, and I've been turning it over in my mind ever since. I still don't really know how to explain it. I was thinking how beautiful she is and how much I love her. I always think those things of her, but this was different. When she turned her eyes toward my lens, the feelings came up in a nearly physical wave. A jolt, a shock, of intimacy.

I took many photos that day, but the one above--while not "best in show"--is by far my favorite. I guess I'll never look at it without remembering the moment I took it.

Leave it to Anjelina. She has the most unconventional teaching methods I've ever experienced, but hey.

Highlights. Lowlights.

I understand, suddenly, why bloggers throw up their hands, overwhelmed by the prospect of writing their lives. I've been on the road again like Willie since the weather's warmed, and I've found it hilly as the one what leads to Hollowell Brethren. Which is to say: at least hilly enough for the flight of a Volkswagen Beetle. At least.

Lowlight: for those of you who've been reading my adventures in marriage counseling, I had another reflective-listening fail a week ago Sunday. This carried over into the first part of last week. Yuck.

Highlight: celebrating Becky's 40th birthday a week ago Monday evening.

Highlight: the little kids and I met my blogger friend Jamie and her kiddos at the zoo last Tuesday. As with other blogger friends I've been blessed to meet face-to-face (including Becky), I found Jamie to be in person who she is in words. I love that. I love her.

Highlight: visit from from my cousin-sister Andrea Tuesday afternoon/evening. We never know exactly when Andrea might appear, but when she does, she shines and shines on us.

Lowlight: marriage counseling on Wednesday. Oh, my word. I was a sobbing wreck, leaving. "Why does it seem like I'm the only one suffering?" I asked Jim.

"Because, Honey," he offered kindly, "we haven't even gotten to our issues, yet. We're working on process, and I'm a process man. Hurry up and master the process so I can suffer over my issues."

Lowlight: dance photos, Wednesday evening. Thank you, Lord, that I had Cade to help with Baby Chip, who chose that very moment (uncharacteristically, I might add) to whine like a dentist's drill. Two girls, four costumes, eight shoes, individual ballet, sister ballet, class ballet, individual tap, sister tap, class tap. High stress.

Highlight: Green Valley Book Fair, Thursday, with my girl Christy and Baby Chip. Why, yes, I did leave my daughters with Miss Sarah Beagle (of St. Baldrick's fame) for six blissful hours. I've never shopped so well at the Green Valley Book Fair. No one grabbed books off the shelves at all. It was amazing!

Highlight: Epic at the Goochland Drive-In with the fam**, Rachel, and Zach on Friday night.

 

 

 

Highlight: helping my friend Anjie photograph a wedding on Saturday. It was my first time being away from Baby Chip for more than thirty minutes or so. Yes, that's crazy town considering he's almost seven months old. I pumped my first bottle in the approximately twelve years since Cade was a breastfeeding baby. Yes, that's crazy town considering: between then and now, I nursed the boys' sisters for fourteen and fifteen months, respectively.

I learned so much about what I didn't know, taking photos at the wedding, like: don't wear ill-fitting underbritches as a photographer, and always carry Tylenol. (It got me, early on, in the back.) Always photograph backdrops in case you need them later, in editing. Learn (really learn!) how to use your camera at night. And I have many more thoughts to share, later, but bottom line: awesome experience. Thankful for the opportunity. Thankful for Anjie, in general.

Highlight: church on Sunday.

Highlight: meeting with a pastor friend, Sunday afternoon, and asking him to put me to work. Being well-received, encouraged on several fronts.

Highlight: I have to brag on my husband; he saved $200, Sunday evening, performing a couple repairs on my van by himself.

Highlight: Memorial Day at the zoo with the fam.

 

Kiss from Farley. She lured him to the glass by showing him her belly button; it's his thing.

This isn't the greatest photo, but it was a big moment for Charleigh. I think it was her first time feeding an animal at the zoo.

And maybe I'm forgetting things. (If so, you see why: busy, busy!) Love y'uns.

**Kind of fun to look at our drive-in photos from July of last year to see how much the kids have grown and Jim has shrunk.