One Month Without Lira
A Life Divided
It’s been one month since Lira died.
September 2nd split my life into a before and after. And now here we are, October 2nd, marking the first full month without her.
I keep coming back to this one truth: the photos I have of her are all the photos that will ever exist. Thousands of images, sure—because I’m a photographer and she was always near my side. But it doesn’t matter how many there are. There won’t ever be another new one. That realization takes me to my knees.
Why I Cancelled the Pet Portrait Event
At the end of September, I was supposed to host the Halloween pet portrait event.
I thought I could power through. But then I pictured putting together the set, testing the light, and knowing that Lira wouldn’t be there. I’ve always photographed my own dogs for the sample images of every pet portrait event.
And I just couldn’t. The idea of photographing those images without her was like trying to breathe underwater.
I know this was disappointing for those who were looking forward to signing up, and I'm so sorry to let anyone down. Please know this decision came from a place of needing to give myself time to heal and to serve my existing clients with the care and attention they deserve.
Holiday Hounds is still on for November, and I'd love for you to join me then. It's always one of my favorite events of the year, and I look forward to creating something wonderful together during the holiday season. You can join the waitlist here.
Grateful for the Photos I Do Have
And yet, in the middle of this ache, I’m so grateful. Grateful for every time I set up the camera on self-timer and pulled her in for a selfie, even when she would only wear her most judgemental face for interrupting her nap. Grateful that, when I had Charlotte Dettienne out to photograph Ginger, I thought to grab Lira at the very end for just a few frames of us together.
At the time, it felt like an afterthought. Now, it feels like a treasure.
Those photos remind me that sometimes the most meaningful images aren’t the ones you planned to make—they’re the ones you made anyway.
Moving Forward
I don’t know yet what the next month without Lira will feel like or the next year or all the other firsts without her I have to go through. I only know that the photos I have are a lifeline, a way to still see her, still feel her, even when I can’t hold her.
And maybe that’s what I want to tell you, too.
Take the picture. Take it now, while your dog is still climbing into your lap, or stealing your pillow, or begging for one more treat. You’ll never regret having too many photos. But one day, you’ll be grateful for every single one.
