If you know these two, you can’t help but smile when you see them. There’s a kinship there that makes you feel like fast friends just upon saying hello.
You know how your life intersects with someone at a crucial moment and you never, ever forget that part of them? Jen is one of those people for me. We rarely talk about it, and I probably haven’t really told her how much it meant to me that day. It is so clear in my mind, her smile walking into the room as I stood alone in trepidation and plenty of fear. She held my gaze as I asked her jumbled questions and shared my fear in a lonely hospital room. She told me how it all went, that she took care of him, that she asked to be there when I couldn’t be. She stood at his side the whole time, and knowing she was there made all the difference as I waited. I will long remember that. She’s one who is behind-the-scenes, quiet, and kind, not seeking recognition. People can sometimes forget the ones who aren’t at the forefront, the surgical techs, the aides, the ones who assist and watch, who stand in courage through the adversity they see. We don’t always remember the ones who are sometimes nameless, who help without being known. But I won’t forget that about Jen. Ever.
I got to photograph these two on their wedding day, and when Jen emailed about doing another session, I jumped at the chance. It’s so good to see them in front of the camera a few years later, those huge smiles still in place, their happy laughter right at home with each other.