Flashes of Hope
Friday of last week, we participated in our first family photo.
Each month an organization called Flashes of Hope provides an opportunity for the oncology patients to have their photos taken.
“To see the child not the disease”
is their slogan. Some of the children have their favorite toys with them, some even have their IV poles in the pictures. A lot of the children are wearing hats.
The photographers are “real” with the lights, cameras and props. The organization then provides two 8 x 10 portraits in a leather portfolio, proofs and a CD of the photos to print out. We will receive our packet in about eight weeks. Until then, I do have a sampling of the session. Well, only the stylist portions. You will have to wait until we get the proofs back to see any of the shoot.
Yes, they did style my hair, and gave me a little gloss and powder. But I have to say, that I didn’t quite look myself—not really Glamour shots, but also not au natural either. ( I didn’t even wear a hat!)
We have a little sibling rivalry going on in our house recently. It is hard to be a sibling of someone with cancer. My husband, Money, knows this first hand. This morning he said, he remembered his brother in two ways—the same two ways he sees our daughters interacting. Money recalled that his brother could be mean, tired and irritable. Hell, who wouldn’t be mean with a wayward cell growing inside of their body while medical practitioners tried to kill it with toxic drugs. However, besides the meanness he also remembers a generosity, kindness and love. At the breakfast table, Isa offered half of her toast to her sister (who had already devoured her share) without any expectations. Even though Money didn’t share any specific instances, her action evoked his memory.
The rivalry although understood by us, the parents, is hard to deal with, by us the parents. We’ve taken the hard and the soft road. The photo session was an example of the soft road. G. wanted to wear her princess dress (Thanks Uncle J. & Aunt C.) replete with crown. Papa let it happen. For the entire morning she chirped about the shoot and her outfit.
My inclination was to steer her toward a more subdued outfit, but it can be hard to contain a Leo. Papa had made the assumption that we could carry the dress for her to change into once we arrived at the hospital. Before Money put that plan into action, G. had already put the dress on and had her crown on her head.
During the shoot, both girls hadn’t had a nap. Princess didn’t follow the photographers directions very well. Perhaps she has a burgeoning artistic vision. Or maybe she’s just bossy.
Isa posed for the bulk of the photos alone, then with her sister, then with the rest of the family. It was a nice experience even with the tantrums.