Bliss & Bokeh and an update

First of all, I want to say thank you for all of the prayers and well wishes. To give you a little more detail: my dad (59, great health, worked out every day) had a Stage 1 aortic dissection that actually "went...everywhere" the surgeon said, motioning in starbursts out from his heart. Most people don't even make it to the hospital, let alone to a great hospital with surgeons who can actually help. I've been told my dad's surgeon will likely be published for this. His P.A., the most senior clinical person at the hospital, said it was the biggest bullet she's ever seen dodged. After two weeks in the hospital he was sent home. After about another week mom brought him back to the hospital where he is now. He's had a fever that won't go away and they're doing all kinds of testing to try to figure out why. Hopefully this is just a bump in the road.

Through it all we've laughed (hard) a lot, cried some, said our "last" goodbyes three times, told lots of good stories, learned more about biology, and have gotten to spend good time together. Its making me wrestle with all my choices about what I want to do with my life--which is always a good thing. And its made me hug my kids a little tighter. Please continue to pray.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

In other news, I wanted to let you know about a retreat for female photographers that's happening in October in Charleston...its called Bliss & Bokeh. Emily and I will both be there and I will be styling a shoot for one of the days. I'm really looking forward to it! Registration just opened...

Also, my workshops are almost full but I do have a couple of seats left at each one...let me know if you're interested.

Yesterday

Yesterday I watched my dad wrestle with Death on a table in the ER. It wasn't angry or violent but instead something closer to the way a little brother would wrestle a bigger brother. He growled and laughed and cussed a little as if Death was giving him a noogie as his body writhed and a deep purple-blue began to take over. He told us he loved us and kissed our heads. I held his hand till they wheeled him off. He was cut wide open by one of the best heart surgeons in the world who seemed to be a little giddy when he told us afterward with a twinkle in his eye that he had preformed a surgery at "the pinnacle of difficulty, the pinnacle of complexity". He told us it was like a bomb had gone off in his chest and that he had stitched his insides together like stitching a soft-boiled egg. Now that he made it through hours of surgery we would wait to see if and if so, how much he would come back. The surgeon prepared us for days, weeks, even a month before he'd wake up. They gave him double the normal nursing staff and said the next hours would be critical. After a few hours, when his best friend and wife came into the ICU, to everyone's complete surprise, he lifted his hand with a thumbs up. It seems Death had relented, tousled his hair (though he is bald), and with a laugh, shoved him back.