I miss her everyday. In Remembrance of my Grandmother

I can’t tell you how much I miss her. Some people might wonder what I’m doing, digging into my personal life on my business blog. Well, I feel if I can’t be myself with my clients then I’m not being real. I’m not your ordinary photographer who likes to rush session, get paid the day of and tell you that your CD won’t be ready for 6 weeks. I do things different. I don’t like short sessions even though I do the mini sessions in the summer, I don’t even ask for a drop of cash the day of, and CDs are always ready before 3 weeks. I try very hard to make things good for my clients as they are choosing me to document their lives. So, thus, I’m going to get personal here, so bare with me. I wasn't feeling good last nite whatsoever, so I zonked out early, otherwise I would've done this last nite.  Don’t worry, I included pictures of course.

I miss her very much. My grandma passed away in September. September 10, 2009. I had this whole idea of branding a new business name, Yellow Brick Road Photo. My grand opening was to be on 9/9/09. My grand opening never happened, it just wasn’t the right timing. I had asked my grandma for some business advice in August. I can remember sitting at the table and looking at images on my laptop. She thought it was so neat that pictures could be sent to computers these days. She shared some thoughts and gave me some pointers that no one else would’ve. I was planning to do a grand opening on 10/17/09, the date picked by my Grandmother because it wasn’t too close to Halloween but close enough where kids would have costumes.

We came up with the idea to have a Halloween mini session day at McNaughton Park, where kids would show up in their costumes, I’d pass out treat bags, and parents would walk away with a CD of 15 edited images from the session on a CD for $30. My grandma had told me to bring candy to her and she’d prepare the treat bags. The grand opening of Yellow Brick Road Photo never happened. It breaks my heart to think it was nearly a month away. I never saw it coming. I can remember her perfectly polished nails as she’d reach across the table and pat my hand as she giggled about something. She had a heart full of gold, and was beautiful in everyway. I went over to her house atleast two Sundays a month and then some in between. I regret not going over there more often. I find myself taking a country drive on a winding road now sometimes on Sundays and listening to a CD that reminds me of no one but her. Sometimes I need that.

There’s so much that has happened recently I would love to share with her and listen to her advice. She gave the best advice. Whether it was about saving money for a house, spirituality, family feuds, relationships, or anything from food recipes to movies to watch, she had wisdom for it all.

She passed away on a Thursday. I was suppose to go up near Madison, WI to visit a friend for the weekend. I was living by myself in an old historic apartment that I was in the process of moving out of. It was pretty bare, and I was pretty much alone that day and Friday when I wasn’t over listening to family talk about arrangements. I decided I needed to get away, so I was going to Wisconsin as weird as it felt. I would stay on 29 and take 26 strait to Wisconsin, so basically all backroads. I’d pass the turn off for the town my grandma grew up in, Walnut, Illinois, but I had never stopped. I felt like everytime I made that trip up to Wisconsin (even before she passed) that I was reliving apart of my grandma’s youth. I remember telling her, I went through Manlius, or Dixon today, and she’d have something to say about each town and what her and her friends use to do there. I got to Wisconsin Friday evening about 7:00PM. I was miserable. I felt like going to Wisconsin was a mistake.  At 7:00AM on Saturday morning I was on the road again coming home because it was what felt right. I passed the sign that said Walnut, IL ten miles and I decided I was going to stop there. I was going to the cemetery to make sure there were flowers on the graves of my Grandmother’s parents, sister, and some others she had always took care of. I felt like she would’ve wanted me to check in on things. I was at the cemetery when a very classy woman stepped out of her little convertible and yelled “I knew someone was here but didn’t see you, youre so short.” I told her I was there just passing through, and asked if she lived in Walnut her entire life. She answered yes. I told her my grandmother was raised and went to high school there. She asked, “Who’s your grandmother?” “Well, she would’ve been Betty Bourquin back then”, I replied. “What! Betty Bourquin, we’ve been trying to get in touch with her about making it up for a reunion. We went to school together.” I proceded to tell her she passed a couple days earlier, and she then told me to get in her convertible. She wanted to show me where my grandma lived, where my great-grandfathers barber shop was, and some other things. I was overcome with surprise, what are the odds? She even stopped by the house of my grandma’s high school best friend, Sue.  I felt like that day happened all because of my grandmother. That was my sign. My sign that just because we couldn’t have our Sunday conversations or annual Burger King day or talk about anything between the ground and the moon, didn’t mean she wasn’t going to be with me. My grandma is with us everyday in our hearts. Here’s a picture of the woman, Rita, who picked me up to show me the town of Walnut, and my grandma’s best friend in high school, Sue. (I hate pictures of myself, and please understand I was a trainwreck during this time, do don't judge me on my appearance :)


This past week has seemed like a very long one. It’s been full of anxiety, sitting on the edge of my chair excitement, happiness, laughter, disappointment, and a a whirlwind of everything crashing down at one point. One good thing did happen this week, I assure you that. You’ll hear more about it in the future. I know, I am keeping you on the edge of your seat now, huh? Anyways. I know my Grandma would’ve been so comforting after she heard about some of the things that were going on. I would love to have a diet rite with her and ask her about grocery store deals and listen to her talk about anything. I recently read this book, For One More Day by Mitch Albom. It literally reached out and grabbed my heart and squeezed it. I recommend it if you’ve lost your mother or grandmother. It really opens your eyes to a mother’s love. I am so thankful for my mom and can’t imagine how hard it’s been for her to cope after losing grandma. She would be turning 78 on January 18th. We would have taken her to he favorite place, Texas Roadhouse. She would've looked beautiful as ever.To my angel, my second mother, my Grandmother Betty Jean Sapp.. I miss you everyday.