I seem to start many of my posts by reiterating the point that I love my job. I really really really LOVE my job! Most of that comes from the fact that I never feel like I’m working. Every shoot brings something fun and interesting for me, I’m never bored, and I get to meet all sorts of different and amazing people! Then, in the midst of a whirlwind of shoots comes that rare shoot. That shoot that stands above many others and says, “Today, you do something truly meaningful.” Not to say that my work is not normally meaningful. Capturing a couple’s portrait session is incredible in that I know I am shooting a beginning. Shooting a wedding is incredible because I know that I am shooting a milestone. Shooting a newborn session is incredible because I know I am shooting a new family member. This shoot though, was so different and unusual for me because for the first time, I believed that I was shooting an end. I was very wrong.
I’ve dwelled on the many ways to properly say this, or how to ease into the subject. I’ve even postponed this blog post because I felt like I didn’t have the wording just right. So I came to the conclusion that I would just say it. Christine has cancer. Terminal cancer.
Just typing that puts a lump in my throat because after meeting this family and getting to know them a bit more, I have completely fallen in love with them. Their dynamic, their sense of humor, their interconnectedness and mostly their love for each other is inspiring to say the least. When you walk into their house you get this immediate sense of home. The first thing you notice is their bookshelf wall that is stuffed with pages and pages of knowledge. Then there are a couple of guitars plugged in to an old amp, which of course brought a huge smile to my face. A small, but nice tv sits in the corner, clearly not the center piece of the room though. Finally, the large fluffy sectional couch that I could just imagine them all snuggled up on together. The quaint space welcomes you in and has the perfect vibe of home.
The family consists of Cliff the dad, Christine the mom, Ceight (12) and Ian (10) the kiddos, and their two awesome dogs. (*Quick side note- Ceight’s name is actually spelled Cate, but she decided on her own that she wanted it spelled Ceight. How awesome is that?!)
I know I sort of breezed over the subject of cancer, but we’ll get back to that. For now, I want to share with you their images from the day. Let’s keep in mind a spirit of celebration, which is one thing that Christine has said to me many times since we’ve met. I shot with the family down at the Point Loma lighthouse. The cute little white lighthouse propped atop the bluffs near the Cabrillo National Monument looks over all of San Diego. The spot holds an even greater significance because 14 years ago, Cliff and Christine were married at that very spot! It turned out to be the perfect location for this family to come together and capture a moment in time.
This first shot is just one of MANY goofy pictures from the day! Ceight and Ian had me laughing the entire time!



Getting Ian to smile without a goofy face was like trying to get the lid off the most stubborn of pickle jars! (I’m allowed to tease Ian, because at the end of the day I went for high-five and he pulled the old, “SIKE!” as he ran his hand through his hair! Don’t worry, I promptly grabbed him and responded with a good hair-messin’-up noogie!)

This was more like what Ian was throwing out that day! Big thanks to Cliff for getting him on this occasion! I have a funny feeling Cliff has dealt with this before ;)

Hahaha! There were so many hilarious moments from the day and this, of course, was one of them!

Something else I know I say a lot is, “This is my favorite picture!” Soooo, I’ll refrain from saying that and just say that when I captured this moment, I had an immediate and large smile!

Okay, this next sequence could not be properly appreciated with any of the three photos on their own. For full enjoyment of the sibling love, all three have been provided!

Ceight and Ian are so awesome! These two shots were their close ups, which they both pulled off with such ease!

This picture makes me smile.

And finally, the Money Shot from the day (or at least the first half. remember, this is a 2 part post!). I absolutely adore the top image, but also wanted to include the second image to point out a fabulous reality from this shoot. Their images were like peanut butter and jelly. For every peanut butter shot (serious/smiling), there was a jelly shot (goofy/hilarious)! Going through the images in post-production was a constant flow of, “Awww. Hahaha! Awww. Hahaha!”

Christine’s battle started seven years ago. She was diagnosed with breast cancer in 2002 and prepared herself for a fight. Through that fight and with the support of her family, Christine rid herself of cancer. Then, last year she felt a lump and knew that it was back. Another more serious battle ensued and once again, the doctors believed that it was beaten. Unfortunately, only months later, a scan showed that the cancer had spread to her other organs. The doctors diagnosed her cancer as terminal. About seven months ago she was given 24 months to live. Christine stopped fighting and instead turned to one of the most beautiful attitudes that I’ve heard. Her words are so much better than mine and in an email to me, she wrote,
“…with the diagnosis of ‘terminal’ cancer came an opportunity that I’m lucky to have. Since I know I’m leaving, I have the opportunity to celebrate my life before I go – in my own heart and with my family and with my friends.
That statement floored me and amazed me to my core. I knew then that I had to talk to Christine further. I asked her to coffee to hear about her story, but more so, to hear about her perspective on her beautifully unique situation. We ended up speaking for a full hour and covered so many subjects from her work as a forensic psychologist in maximum security prisons, to her family, to her husband, to her feelings on death and where she believes her journey will take her next. My initial intent was to share all of that on here, but now believe that the simplest of messages would say the most and much of what I’ve heard will be expressed by Christine in her own way. I may share more on the second half of this post, but will end this half with the most profound of her statements. When talking about death and what she feels that will mean, Christine gazed out the window for a moment, looked back at me, then said,
“David, I don’t know what will happen to me. What I do know, and what I’m sure of is that I’m not going to end. My soul is not going to end. I can just feel it. There is no end. There is no such thing as an end.”
(stay tuned for more tomorrow…)







by David Manning
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