A Month of Photos and A Video: December 2019

January is practically half over and I have yet to post December’s media stuff! I decided to put the one second video first this time just to mix things up. And also because I have things to say about my photos this month and I wanted those thoughts to be at the end of the post.

So. First the video:

And now the photos:

Here’s the deal.

Frankly, it’s been hard to go back and look at these and get them ready to share with you. There’s nothing that indicates that our lives fell apart in the middle there, but in my head the month is very clearly divided into before Randy died and after Randy died . . . exactly one month ago today. I honestly don’t think it’s reflected in the photos . . . no one else can probably tell that anything changed . . . there are still twinkle lights and cookies and all that’s lovely about December. But.  The photos at the beginning of the month feel joyful to me. There’s Dale in the snow with his new hat. There is a silly outtake from our Christmas card photo shoot. There is the joy of our town tree lighting. And then there is the rest of the month. When I look at the photo from December 13th, I remember taking that picture of our Christmas tree before we headed out to a party, only to be called back home shortly after we left because something tragic had happened. When I look at the photo of our town gazebo, I remember walking down there with Dale, hoping to feel the peace of the season despite our sadness.  When I see that photo of Jackie asleep on our bed, I remember that as I was taking it Dale was in the living room with Luke and they were telling Randy stories and trying to make sense of what had happened. I love to document our life events with photos but this event . . . this before and after . . . it’s a story I don’t know how to tell in photos.

There are feelings behind those photos that aren’t directly reflected in the photos themselves. But they are there. And they are sad. Those feelings are relentless and heavy. But it’s life and sometimes life breaks your heart. And you take photos of twinkle lights and cocktails anyway.

You carry on.

Thanks for listening.

 

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This Post Has 17 Comments

  1. Sometimes a picture is worth a thousand words, but many times there simply are no words, and photos can’t show what is felt. I’m hoping your after is feeling a tiny bit less relentless and heavy and you are finding it a tiny bit easier to carry on.

  3. Beautifully said, Carole. The grieving process is heavy and hard – and yet, life can look normal to those around us. Thank you for giving us a reminder that what looks normal, might not be normal. XO

  4. Maybe you don’t know how to tell that story in pictures because that kind of story is for our hearts. Wishing you exquisite moments of life breaking through your grief until you’re ready to live this reset on life in full.

  7. That’s just like in life, Carole. We don’t always see the turmoil and grief and sadness going on . . . just below the surface. But it’s there all the same. Sending all the love. XOXO

  8. I still think of everything as “before 2014, when my brother died”, or “after 2014”. Most recently it’s “before October when Dad got sick” and “afterwards”. I think it’s even worse because our recent sadness all happened at the holidays. Wishing all of you peace and understanding in the coming months. Hugs to you Carole.

  9. Sending you love, Carole. There will forever be that before/after divide, but as you said, you carry on. Though this most recent holiday season’s joy was lessened by grief, there was still some joy, and there will be joy in the future. I hope that as each day passed, the grief gets a bit easier to bear.

  10. As heartrending as it was to read these words, I know from personal experience, that it was even harder to write them. But I admire your telling. I admire your sharing. Sending virtual hugs.

  11. This is a good reminder that we often don’t know what is going on in someone’s life so it is good to be kind and gentle with everyone we meet.

  12. Sending all the love your way Carole. My friends’s husband took his life on the 23rd. As we say – go easy with folks…you just never know. xo

  13. Thank you for sharing and reminding us that everyone is going through something and we need to be compassionate. Thus is the joy and tragedy of life. We just have to keep loving and living.

  14. “The world breaks everyone and afterward many are strong at the broken places. But those that will not break it kills.” I share this with you because I believe in its truth. It is good that you and Dale are broken. It shows the love you have inside, and it shows that you are capable of great feeling. So it will not kill you. You will be strong in the broken places, and you will always have a place in your heart named Randy. I know, because I have many broken places, and most of them have names.

  16. Great sadness and great love can exist together. In the same breath. the same moment. you show that truth beautifully!

  17. Sending warm thoughts as you move through the new year and new decade. I know you have the strength to face the challenges that may lay ahead.

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