Some people dream about their wedding day. I dreamt about my wedding video. For real. My dad was pretty adamant this one had to be my best work. I think it became that, because despite the tragic timing of dad not making it to my wedding, his felt absence was an opportunity to honor him.
This one is for you dad.
One of my last memories of my dad was actually talking about this video. He was killing himself laughing describing all the goofy things my brothers were going to do in lederhosen to spin off Steven's German heritage to start off the program after the dinner.
The last-minute of the video was accompanied by my brothers entering the reception, in a new outfit, singing the famous Sound of Music soundtrack in between the tables.
It was this song that sparked the name for this archive; this broken gift. I was listening to it while stuck in traffic in India, and capturing b-roll through the window.
I recreated the moment, pairing those shots to the song and posted it on facebook, and at the time it meant something different than it does now. Now they take on a new form but hold the same truth.
"As unexpected as the traffic in rural India, were a strangers words strung together so perfectly to encapsulate my turmoiled thoughts. And as these troubled faces stared into mine, I couldn’t help but think maybe they were trying to make sense of the deep dark stuff too."
The simultaneous experience of suffering and joy can do nothing more than distort how we feel, it can’t change what is true; darkness doesn’t win.
Yellow has carried a significant theme in the building of a new life with Steven long before my dad died. And it became a deeper symbol of God's kindness as I turned over this yellow painting leaning against the wall upstairs on the morning of my dad's funeral.
Full post is called "Yellow" under the category "In case I forget"
To mark one year from May 17th, 2019, I wrote a letter to frame a video project called "Dear Dad".
It was written as a stamp in the archives that darkness didn’t win.
And like old childhood photos, documenting this season will increase in value over time.
Many things were left unsaid by a long shot. Also, trying to explain COVID-19 to my dad was a comedic experience.
Every detail from how each shot flowed into the next, to the angle, to the timing of the music, to the order of the chapters of the story, to even the significance of the pen I used to write the letter, they were all intentional decisions to create what might only be a brief moment of clarity and comfort for me, and for my family, if and when we need to hear it.
The simultaneous experience of suffering and joy can do nothing more than distort how we feel.
It can’t change what is true; darkness doesn’t win.
It may not always have felt that way, but that didn’t make it any less true.
Grief did not, and will not, have the last word in our lives.