true Freedom

In the past four months I have been arrested and appeared in court three times, wrecked my car, undergone surgery, and turned a total of probably three photo assignments in on time.

But I’ve learned a lot, a lot about life and who I am, and I hope that continues.

I have neglected the purpose of this blog for the past few months. It began as my interpretation of what “freedom” is, and how it is expressed through photography and writing. It began as some sort of anonymous photo-a-day experiment where I exposed identities of my subjects while hiding my own (largely because they were boy scouts and policy is to use the first letter of the last name, but as a photojournalist I felt no need to withold it).

I have come to understand that there is a price for “freedom” and it is high. This blog began on July 4th, and since then I have been to Occupy Wall Street twice, as well as Occupy Rochester where I was arrested. i have spoken to law enforcement in some form (pulled over, arrested, questioned, etc.) nineteen times in the past ten months. Fortunately these have mostly been resolved through conversation. I was in the wrong place at the wrong time and the police were trying to figure out why I was there. I am a storyteller, and sometimes finding stories requires being in the belly of the beast.

I am working to take this blog back to what it is about, telling stories and embracing freedom.

…

“Grandma’s gettin’ bad…” my 73 year old, 240 lb grandpa just said to me, as my grandma makes her way into the kitchen with her walker. She was diagnosed with ALS on Wednesday. She has likely had the “syndrome” for a year. My mom tried to shield my sister and me from it at first, as if the shock would be too emotionally trying. My dad is walking back and forth, carrying cinderblocks from outside to his bedroom. He’s propping up the side of the bed for her to sleep in while they’re visiting from Ohio.

“I went in and gave her a kiss yesterday morning, and told her, ‘Merry Christmas.’ She started crying.” My grandpa told me again. Her condition has progressed to where she cannot climb steps, and even the two getting into my house took a walker and the help of the rest of the family.

“We lost our youngest grandson…but I believe since he took Nick, he’s not gonna take another grandson…you were pretty banged up. I don’t know why but the Lord has treated me and taken good care of me…” my grandpa, the second oldest member on both sides of my family tells me, as I write this blogpost. Amazingly, he looks the thinnest I’ve ever seen him.

My dad just shooed me from his room. I can’t lift the bed to help put the cinderblocks under it; I’m six days out of the OR for hernia surgery. I can’t lift more than ten pounds and my groin feels like someone’s grabbing at my intestines. He doesn’t like me taking pictures, as if it violates the sanctity of our family space. This is an ongoing struggle, something that likely always will be.

My grandma’s not dead yet. I want to make that perfectly clear. But she is going to die. We are all going to die, and a lot of people try to hide from that, or are scared by it, and they shelter themselves from it. To a lot of people, tomorrow will just be a repetition of today. I can’t handle that. Life’s too short to take anything for granted, to have expectations of wealth, freedom, or happiness. These are things to be engaged everyday. Try telling someone with ALS that they have freedom of speech as they struggle to breathe…

My grandma’s now on a road that she has no option but to follow. ALS is terminal, and difficult. It has my family fairly emotionally vulnerable, even me. I didn’t cry when my dad’s father died unexpectedly of a massive heart attack at 62 nearly eight years ago. It’s not the death that brings me to tears, but the beauty and peace that I find in it, that there are a lot of visible expressions of God’s sovereignty.

I get choked up a bit because through the last five years of my life, my faith in God as a Christian has grown stronger. I’m on a deferred disciplinary suspension from the school, and my actions merited it, but even that has been a blessing. When I look at my grandpa’s death, I see a peace that surrounded his life, and I see the lives that he impacted. When I look at my grandma, the timeline is eerily similar, and the peace is there too. My great grandma was just put into a nursing home, and my grandma was together with her and her two sisters during her 90th birthday celebration.

That doesn’t make this easier, and maybe my relatives would read this and feel some pain at what may seem like my incredulity. My dad would probably read a few lines then stop, to avoid reacting in anger at me putting our “family business” on the internet. What I have learned the past four months is that everyone has a story, and it has it’s dark corners that are guarded, but the deeper you follow the story, the more you learn about yourself, the more it shapes you.

We spent Christmas largely closed-off from the outside world. A lot of people had parties around us, but it was with the same people they’ve partied with time and again. I can’t help but look at the piles of crap in my dusty room (I was diagnosed with “Reactive Airway Disease” three weeks after cleaning it last year) and think to myself, ‘this is just a storage unit for when I get my own place.’ Hopefully I lose some of it between now and then, but I am already in the process of defining the boundaries of my life and who I am and what I value.

In the tradition of Jerry Springer, I’ll give a final thought. Learn something new, meet someone new, or accomplish something new everyday. Do this with love and compassion, without regret, and have faith that it will carry past yourself. Be prepared, because you will put others on edge, and they may react violently, but love even your enemies. Forgiveness repairs what anger destroys. Be humble, because pride is a waste of time. Be aware of what you know, what you do not know, and what you think you know. Don’t be afraid to make mistakes and success is just the byproduct of hard work, not a destination, a journey, or even a measure. Life is a journey, and whether it’s 100 years or a million miles, every step is worth taking.

Right now, I want to make the last months or years of my grandma’s life as beautiful as possible for her. We’re likely going to play a lot of cards. I want to say now, that when she can’t hold them up, she’s on my team. I need to learn a few things about when to take tricks in hearts, or how not to get rummied. On that note, i’m going to go join my family for dinner.

This makes me choke up, but it gives me peace and hope.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?feature=endscreen&NR=1&v=2IFF9yu5i3k