You see, I was just beginning my photography career and ironically, I was waiting for a call from a family whose daughter was in labor, ready to deliver a new life that day, and I was fortunate enough to be entrusted to document those first moments of new life. So, in order to be ready, I took my camera gear along with me when I was visiting Mom. The hospital I’d be going to for the birth was not far from where mom was staying in a private room at Stein Hospice.
When I arrived that morning, mom was sleeping, so I sat down on the small couch in her room. There is an overwhelming sense of sanctity in a Hospice facility where death is embraced as a natural part of life and where gifted and compassionate employees help guide your loved one through their journey home. It was an odd mixture of emotions, the depth of my sadness balanced out by the calm demeanor of those who hold such important jobs. I looked down at my black camera bag and thought, “Would it be okay to take Mom’s picture?” For many reasons, it felt unnatural, as if I would violating her most private moments; I was conflicted. But then I made a bold decision to get my camera out and oh so quietly look through my lens and lovingly “see” my mom.
I took a few images of Mom resting until later when she awoke and was brought her tray of food by one of the many selfless volunteers at Stein Hospice. While I was trying to “fix” the sliding table holding her food tray, I accidentally tipped it at an angle that caused the food to slip right off of it! I knew my Mom was very familiar with my clutzy nature, and she began to laugh. I hurried to grab my camera and took this image. If you knew my Mom, you knew that smiles didn’t come easy for her when being photographed (I had to catch her in candid moments to capture her smile!), and this is just one aspect of the image that makes it so special to me. What a juxtaposition to be laughing and smiling in a Hospice bed! I knew I had captured something special and was ever so thankful I had my camera out of its bag where I could easily press that shutter button.
Fast forward to after she passed. There is no other way to demonstrate this incredibly important point to you. It’s a point I’ve often wanted to tell everyone about, yet it seems a bit morbid in a way, and that fear contributed to me keeping this message and this image to myself, unlike my father who brought this photograph with him to show everyone, including the doctors that cared for Mom, the workers at Stein and all of his friends. It remained with him until he went to meet her in 2018…my friends, that is the power of a photograph. This is what I so desperately need you to know: photographs increase in value once someone you love is gone, and once that happens, there are no more chances.
I’ve had this image now for thirteen years: thirteen years of missing my mom; thirteen years of growing my business, thirteen years of understanding the value of documenting LOVE; thirteen years of changed perspective on what constitutes meaningful photography. I’ve been hesitant to share this image because of its nature…its raw, real-life nature…beautiful, not in the conventional way we all expect, nor what I usually post. I want people to feel joy when they see my images, to smile, to not only see it with physical eyes, but with their heart…that is the core of my brand and one of my main goals. But, I was afraid to post it. I didn’t want anyone to feel unhappy, or sad, or uncomfortable.
My mom was brave until the end. So today, in her honor, I will follow her path and be brave about posting this image…it may not be the best quality photograph, but it is absolutely the most perfect image.
This is my why; my purpose…this is why I am a photographer.
Thanks, friends, for reading this personal post.
In loving Memory ~ Julie Royal ~ 12.6.32 ~ 6.21.11
~ Pam
February 24, 2024
Templates used for site design: Eliza Mae by Lauren Rich Creative and Jubilee by Alisabeth Designs| Customized by J. Alexandria Creative
Copyright 2022-2024, Pam Johnston Photography, All Rights Reserved. Privacy Policy. Terms.
Be the first to comment