Everyday Treasures

This week has been sobering.

The hours spun by like normal on Monday.  Tuesday my world was rocked violently.  I received the news that a dear friend had passed away on Monday.  It was instant and earth shattering heartbreak as my thoughts moved to his wife and children.

I sat in R&B Breakfast Club at breakfast with my husband.  Alone.  We were excited to be able to have that moment without kids with us and then the phone call came.  The phone call that changed the lives of so many in our community, not just me and my family.

My husband could barely choke the words out to tell me what happened.  He just said, “I’m so sorry….” and fill in the gaps with the words I will never forget.  A friend was gone much too soon.  I covered my face with my hands and just sobbed those gut wrenching sobs that feel like they will rip you apart at the seams.

My heart…the pain….oh my God….why….no….please no….Kim…no…no….Kim….Lily….Wilson….Finn…Kim’s boys…No…NO..




It hit so hard.  The weight and the pain.  The noise around me faded into nothing.  All I could feel was the pain and the reality that I would never again see Scott and Kim together.  I would never see his humor on Facebook and warm smile when I would come over or see him out.  But even the thoughts that I lost something did not compare to the pain that I knew his beautiful wife, Kim was facing.

I helped this family with their wedding.  I have stories of volleyball, photography, kids, sessions, newborns…my mind raced with all the memories flooding me.  But more than anything, my thoughts rested with Kim.  She is such a sweet treasure to me and to know the weight on her at this moment felt like it was more than I could bear.

The world lost such a wonderful man and photographer this week and as a fellow photographer, I understand the fleeting moments that are documented just by a shutter click.  The mundane.  The painful.  The memories.  They are all important.  Yes, fun activities are wonderful to document but I have lost the notion that the simple every day moments are the ones that you remember and cherish.  If you would like to help Scott’s family left behind, please donate using this link.

Since Scott’s death I committed myself to documenting the everyday treasures.  The moments that trek by weather you are paying attention or not.  Kids getting their shoes on in the morning, pitter pattering over carpeted floors to wake up sisters, husbands snuggling with sick babies.  I had forgotten how much I treasure these memories.

Soon that’s all they will be.


Not reality.

Because soon my babies will be grown.

I am writing this sitting in a hospital room thinking back over my week and listening to a song that has ministered to my soul for several months and today the words just hit me much deeper.

Known by Tauren Wells

“It’s so unusual it’s frightening
You see right through the mess inside me
And you call me out to pull me in
You tell me I can start again
And I don’t need to keep on hiding
I’m fully known and loved by You
You won’t let go no matter what I do
And it’s not one or the other
It’s hard truth and ridiculous grace
To be known fully known and loved by You
I’m fully known and loved by You”
I’m in the hospital with my dad.  I watched him yesterday nearly die in my car trying to get him to the Emergency Room.  Fear filled my heart as I am racing to the Fort Collins Emergency Room and everything is screaming in my soul that he wouldn’t make it.
I started feverishly praying.


I jerked the steering wheel at the last moment to take the highway exit back to Cheyenne.  “He won’t make it.”  I heard Him say.

My dad has internal bleeding that has been there for some time draining away his life force and making it nearly impossible for his body to function.  He probably would have been able to push it out longer had he not been sick with whatever virus my daughter had as well.  He has lost two units of blood in a very short time.

Once at the ER, I motioned for the security guard to get the wheel chair before I had even come to a screeching halt.  He was a guy smaller than me and super human strength and picked my dad up and set him in the wheel chair in record time.   It was all happening at exactly the right times apparently.  The valet attendant ran up to me as I was grabbing our bags out of the car and I literally threw the keys to her and took off.

My dad was unresponsive in my car on the way to the ER and inside wasn’t much better.  He was acting like he was coming out of a drug induced coma and couldn’t even grab his drivers license out of his wallet.  We answered one question on his symptoms and they wheeled him back.  Lack of oxygen, a hard time drawing breath and purple legs will get attention.  They had him hooked up to heart monitors, EKG and had a flurry of nurses in less than ten minutes.  IVs were started, fluids pumped, medication started and then we waited.

After tests all came back normal we were stumped.  I answered all the questions.  I sent text after text after text on updates.  I made phone calls helping my friend Kim arranging funeral plans.  And I was at information overload.  I had to tell my mom “No more information mom.  I can’t remember it all.  Let me tell Kim all that and then I will call back and you can give me more.”

It was intense.

They finally figured out after they gave him two bags of fluid and he drank about eight cups of water that he was dehydrated which skewed his blood tests to look normal.

He was bleeding internally and had lost two units of blood.

They would be admitting him to see the surgeon.

I headed home to get some rest at 10:00pm.  My heart was in overdrive.  In less than three days I had lost a dear friend and nearly lost my dad.  I sat in my car, exhausted.  Spent. And just sobbed in the parking garage.  It always amazes me at the amount of pressure and pain we can take as humans.  I know diamonds are made under extreme pressure in the earth and that’s what I feel like God is doing with me right now.
I feel things intensely.  I feel other’s pain intensely.  I feel their joys, their hurts, their personalities, their love.  I feel like this makes me a better photographer because I can literally feel my client’s hearts.  I can feel where they’re at and I tailor their time with me around that.  It has always worked well for me and I know it’s a gift from God to be able to feel things like that.  But at times like this where it feels so intense, it’s almost unbearable.
Today, I decided to bring my camera up to the hospital to document the everyday treasures even in the pain.
When we first arrived, I was so pleased to see my dad up and sitting in a chair.  As the day has gone on he was fading.  By lunch time he was in so much pain they had to dose him with pain meds just to make him comfortable.
My youngest daughter is very close to my dad.  They spend a lot of time together and she’s even named after my dad.  He says when she was born that she saved him.  He was in a dark place mentally when he first moved out here and all through my pregnancy.  When she was born, it was almost like he woke up out of a deep sleep.
She’s praying for her Bumpa.
He had to get an echocardiogram to check his heart.  After this he started fading pretty quickly.
My dad’s really good friend, Velcro, came to visit with him.  He’s a pastor at a local church. I am friends with his daughter and that’s how they met.  It such a fun story!
I will try to keep updating here as we go through the day today.
The doctor came in and talked to us about the scope and what it would mean.  They are hoping the will be able to find the bleed and be able to repair it at the same time.  He told us that had my dad gone to bed yesterday and just popped more Motrin that he would not have woken up in the morning.  He would have been gone.
Over Motrin.
Let that sink in.
The drug we give our babies to bring temperatures down, ease headaches, help with ear ache pain.
When you take it religiously like my dad has to in order to combat chronic autoimmune pain, it starts to eat away at the inside of your stomach and inhibits all kinds of body processes.  And the FDA allows it.  Huh.  I almost lost my dad to something that is FDA approved and prescribed to him.
The doctor said that most people start to feel the way my dad did yesterday and take more Motrin thinking it will help them feel better.  They go to bed and end up bleeding to death internally in their sleep.  That’s really good to know…
I am so thankful I followed God’s still small voice to bring him in.  I find that so amazing to me.  He’s God.  Why does He use a still, small and quiet voice to whisper to us?  Why doesn’t He just use His booming outside God voice?  I think because He wants us to quiet ourselves, earnestly seek Him and truly, truly listen.  It’s easy to hear and listen when someone is loud, but it’s much harder to hear when someone is quiet.  He draws us to Him this way.
7:00pm: They finally came to get him for his scope.
Sitting alone in the dark room I felt numb.
Numb to the hurt.
Numb to the chaos.
Numb to everything.
I had my headphones on and was trying to write positive and uplifting posts to schedule for the next couple of months.  And I felt like I was failing.  Failing at being what everyone needed me to be.  I felt like I failed my friend.  Failed my husband and kids for not being home.  And failed myself for allowing myself to be numb.
I just wanted to scream.
I tried to pour myself into some kind of work.
He was gone for about an hour and a half and when they wheeled him back, he was awake and coherent.  But barely.  He faded fast again.  He tried telling me what the doctor told him after he woke from anesthesia but he couldn’t remember much.  I thought the doctor would come talk to me but that didn’t happen.  The nurse told me he would probably come in the morning.  So I headed home.
Again, in the safety of my home and in my husband’s arms, the tears came.  The sobs shook me like mad and I just wanted to melt into him and maybe I could have a fraction of the strength he has.  He gave me peace.  My heart was settled and quiet.  Finally, for the first time all week.  Just peace.  And it felt wonderful.
I know God has this but reminding myself this at every waking moment is so hard.
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  • Amber - I love you so very much, Lacey. I am praying for you. Please let me know if you need anything at all. 💜ReplyCancel

  • Beccy - I love you and your great big heart my friend!! Sending my love and prayers to all of you!!  ReplyCancel