Two years...it seems like just yesterday...

It's been two years since we suffered the loss of my daughter's good friend, Barry Simon. Barry died, curled up in his mother's arms, two years ago today, on a sunny Saturday afternoon after a five year battle against Fanconi Anemia. He is sorely missed, and his photo is on our refrigerator next to that of Alex, my nephew, who we lost nearly 15 years ago from a virulent strain of meningitis.

I miss you both. Thomas has started a little game of make-believe about my nephew. Alex died when he was five and a half years old, exactly how old Thomas is now. I cannot imagine losing my son at this sweet age. Thomas talks about his cousin who lives with God and talks about how Alex is all better but can't come to play with him, but he wishes he would. My mother recently sent a toy to Thomas that Alex had played with years ago, and my son, who is notoriously harsh on toys, is incredibly gentle with this one, almost giving it a type of reverence.

I was with both Barry and my nephew on the day before they passed away. Barry was tired, but talkative (see my blog post from September 2008). Alex was unconscious and on life support. I remember sitting next to his bed holding his hand, just amazed at how big it was. In reality, I'm sure it wasn't much bigger than Thomas' hand is now. I just wanted him to wake up so badly. We all did. And when the time came where his heart stopped beating, while listening to the soundtrack from The Lion King, we were all saddened beyond belief.

I am inspired by parents who have lost their children, who get up day after day in the face of insurmountable loss, and are able to care for their other children, to comfort those around them, and to, eventually, laugh and smile again.

So in honor of Barry Simon, and Alex Bleau, and to Cindy Wamsley (Barry's mom) and Trish, my sister, and to countless others who have lost their children far too soon, I wish you peace, and I hope that all of us, at some point in our lives, can experience the love and joy and sweetness that was personified in these two boys.

So, Maureen, What Did You Do All Summer Anyway?

I've had that question posed to me more than once since I quit my corporate job in mid-July. Whoa. It's been a wild ride, I assure you!

After 8 1/2 years working for a corporation, I took a MAJOR plunge and left the safe, secure world of the steady paycheck to venture into the unknown and scary world of the artist. Did I face criticism for putting my family in financial danger? Yes. Did I think about the consequences of my actions? Assuredly, yes. Did I have any reservations? Absolutely, yes. Do I regret my decision. Decidedly NO.

I can feel myself coming back to a person I used to be. That sounds dramatic, but I assure you that it's absolutely true. I've been able to pay all my bills with my camera since the day I left the day job. I've been more attentive to the needs of my children. I sleep through the night without the assistance of Tylenol PM. I am happier. I am kinder. I am slower to anger. I have cooked regular family meals almost all this week. Essentially everything I sacrificed, rightly or wrongly, to a corporation that didn't really care about me personally, I have begun to rebuild. And it feels intensely, almost insanely, good.

What I did discover during these last seven or so weeks was the impact of burnout on a person. Physically, mentally, emotionally and spiritually. I was hit and destroyed on all of those fronts. The further I get away from it, the more I see it and wish I had intervened for myself long before it got to this point.

So in the midst of all this healing, I have had some fantastic experiences.

1) I was hired as the photographer for Next Step Prep, a seven-week performing arts academy associated with the Missoula Children's Theater. You can tune in to the blog I created for that program to see what these amazing 26 inaugural students did and the amazing experience I had documenting the process (there are about 10 more blog posts to do...sorry...things got a little hectic there).

2) I had a fantastic wedding with Suzanne and Bobby, two amazing actors who chose me to tell the story of their day. What wonderful people. What a beautiful wedding. I was blessed to have been a part of it.

3) I have been back in the studio doing what I love to do most--creating!!! I am also experimenting with some new lighting techniques that I think will knock the socks off some of our senior photos.

4) I am also hard at work developing marketing plans, strategies, and great deals to re-launch myself in the photography world, now that I have all the time and energy to do so.

5) I get to volunteer at my little boy's school. Thomas started kindergarten this year. It's amazing that this little teeny preemie baby is now sitting nicely in his chair at circle, engaged in lesson plans, and able to do the monkey bars unassisted (this was a LONG process of physical and occupational therapy this past summer and he has just excelled). I am so excited to be a part of his elementary school experience. If I'd kept that old job, I doubt I would have been able to do much. I also get to go to Madelyn's cross-country meets and cheer her own without the worries of having to schedule it around a corporate schedule.

So there you have it. I feel like a butterfly newly released from a cocoon. Cliche, yes, I know, but it's the God's honest truth.

I want to express a heartfelt thanks to my dearest friends, who not only supported me through thick and thin, but who also gave a rousing HURRAH when I made the decision to leave, to my clients, who were patient with me when I got a little behind, to the Missoula Children's Theater, for giving me such a wonderful opportunity to work on a fantastic project, and for my husband, Andy, who ultimately encouraged me to work 100% on the studio.

Life is good.