Sunday, October 11, 2009

What dreams may come


Distant
Laval, QC, September 2009


I'm not sure what they were dreaming of here. I hoped it was of something soothing and comforting, but I'm almost certain it was anything but.

This was the first of four photos I took on this day, the morning of my father's funeral, barely a day after he died, barely a few hours after we pulled in to my in-laws' house after the saddest, most traumatizing day they had ever experienced. I wasn't sure I should even be taking any pictures, but as I stood in the doorway and watched their sleeping forms, I didn't want to forget what it felt like to still have...them.

We so often say the words, "Life is precious." But I'm not sure we always mean them as deeply within the depths of our respective souls as we really should. So I picked up my camera - the very act of which brought me a small sense of physical comfort - and took their picture. Because they truly are precious. And I never wanted to forget how powerful that felt as I watched them sleep.

7 comments:

Hope said...

I'm so sorry for your loss, it is a long road to heal from the death of a loved one.

So many things I used to take for granted....I'm certain I'll never look at life the same.

You seem to savor the moments with your family...good for you--they slip by so quickly. I wish you comfort and healing.

Thom said...

A truly remarkable photo my friend. :)

kenju said...

An excellent reminder, Carmi. I hope your pain is easing a little.

much2ponder said...

(((((Carmi))))) I am sorry to hear of your loss. This is a tough road you travel, a life changing moment in time. It is true, things will never be the same from here on in. I understand your pain so well. I am at awe at your ability to take the moments you did to notice the gifts you do have. You are a remarkable man. One of strength, living a life of meaning. I say a prayer for the protection of your broken heart and for the healing that will follow to be as the Lord would will it. My heart is heavy for your loss.

lissa said...

It truly illustrates how sleep is such a balm, such an escape, even for the few hours in which we engage. And for kids, even moreso.

The image I have, however, is that of a protective dad, standing watch over his kids, because I know what was in your heart and mind at this moment, but you chose to soothe the immediate pain with the instant sweetness that comes with the sights and thoughts of your kids even as you wish you could shield them from the turmoil you knew was yet to come.

That's the image I have. If only there's been a mirror on that wall...(but I can still see you).

Hugs and love.

Chris Tea said...

Thank-you for the reminder.

Mojo said...

I know the feeling, not knowing if a photo is appropriate. But in times like this I think whatever brings comfort is entirely appropriate. So click on my friend, click on.