Musings of a Musician’s Wife: the good and the not so good of wedding photography

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As a wedding photographer I come across a great variety of weddings from the fancy over-the-top sort to the handmade and on the farm type.  Being that weddings have consumed my attention this month I have had them on my mind a lot.  These weddings become a part of my life for a while because of all the emotions I see throughout the day and because of the emotionally charged atmosphere I take on some emotions myself.  More specifically, I particularly remember the best moments of the day… and the not so good.

The not so good

Divorce is bad.  But it becomes painfully obvious at a wedding as I arrange and rearrange families for various additions and subtractions of people to satisfy everyone’s ideal wedding portrait.  I love making everyone’s dreams come true, but there is always something sad to me when the rearranging is not so the bride and groom can have treasured pictures with the whole family and any individual members they want but to get all the broken sections of family.

Guest paparazzi.  All the point and shoot cameras brought into a wedding become my battle grounds for getting pictures of the bride and groom.  My deepest wish is to have a wedding with no other cameras but my own so I don’t have to compete for attention and don’t have to fight against other people’s flashes and cameras hanging out in the middle of my perfect point of view.

The hand.  This happens most at receptions, some more, some less, but the hand to the camera… please do not do it.  All I can think in moments like that is “but I am doing this for the bride and groom.”

An angry bride.  It’s just scary.

The good

Wedding sermons.  I love wedding sermons.  They never get old to me and it is always a wonderful reminder for me to refocus my attention on the things that matter in my own marriage.

The bride’s grand entrance.  To this day I am on the verge of tears every time a bride walks down an aisle, especially if the groom is crying.  There is something about that moment that stirs up all the good there is to be had in the world and plops it right in front of me.  Nothing else matters in that still moment but the bride and groom locking eyes and everyone else believing in love, even if just for a moment.

Worship.  Josh and I didn’t have worship at our ceremony, but if I were to do it all over again I totally would.  During worship at the ceremony I find myself on the verge of tears yet another time.  If the moments the bride spends walking down the aisle are beautiful, the moments she and her man spend worshipping together on their wedding day are beyond magnificent – highlighting God during the day that marks one of the biggest commitments.

Physical transformation.  I love getting to watch all the women in the bridal party go from bed head and wrinkly comfy, clothes to glamorous princesses.  Sometimes when I later connect with various members I’m confused when I see them dressed in their street clothes as I catalogue them in my brain as the princess I last saw them as.

Perhaps I will add more to this collection over time but, for now, these are the few that have been running laps in my brain.

Musings of a Musician’s Wife: Happy Father’s Day

Yesterday I wrote out the seeds my dad has planted in my life, recorded it in a video, and sent it to him as my far away Happy Father’s Day gift.  Love you Daddy!

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Daddy, you are a man of very loving words and little expectation.  I know you don’t expect much on holidays but I have never wanted to take that as an out for gift giving because you are so worthy of being showered with love.  You are also a man who places clear value of presence and loving words over any physical gift, however expensive.  So, on this Father’s Day I decided to give you the closest thing to presence I could think of being I cannot be there and a whole slew of loving words, yet none of this will ever compare to the 23 years of both of these you’ve given me.  Words can only go so far because I know that every time I get to talk about you I have so many good ones to share so I hope that my words now, most of which I blurt out whenever anyone will hear, reveal to you just how ridiculously fantastic I think you are.  And as a wonderer of God’s creation I want to share with you all the seeds you’ve sown in me as my daddy.

 

“I’m sorry.”  If you weren’t quick to apologize for your part in any of our arguments you were adamant about doing so when we both had time to cool down.  You showed me that the quickest fire tamer is those two simple words.  It is hard to maintain anger after a heartfelt apology escapes the lips of your current assailant.  So you not only showed me how to say I’m sorry but you gave that gift to me in our arguments and taught me to graciously accept an apology and to be quicker to admit where I was also wrong.

 

Patience and steadfastness.  These two go together with you because there is a steadfastness about your patience.  There has always been something about you that is like a Jesus’ fisherman’s boat facing the storms with undying certainty of safe passage.  I strive for that certainty as I walk through life.  And even though you are somewhat of a speed demon on the roadways at times that is not actually a hint of impatience.  You are patient in all times of waiting and have a contentedness about you that I hope to see grow in my life.  You truly emit a spirit of joy wherever you are, in whatever you are doing.

 

Gentleness.  I frequently found amusement in my friends when they came over because of the freakish look of fear that flickered in their eyes when they first saw you, especially with the boys.  You have this sort of intimidation about you that I only understood when I erred on the wrong side of the fence and made you unhappy.  But with my friends I always laughed at them because I knew that you were simply gooey and cuddly on the inside.  I can remember watching you help me nurse various wild animals back to health.  I remember the way you reach out to small children and handle them with such care.  I remember the way you patiently encourage my skittish dog to come near you for some loving.  I remember the way you would gather me up in your arms when I cried.  I remember how the words that most frequented your mouth were uplifting and most loving.

 

Love-giving words, nurturing, and affection.  Daddy, you are never short on words of affection for those you love.  You are especially intentional about frequently using the words “I love you.”  Whenever I get the chance to talk about you I talk about how I somehow never even needed to hear those words because I never doubted that you have loved me wholeheartedly every second of my life.  

 

Time and presence.  You have shown me that the two most valuable gifts are time and presence.  You showed me this by showing up at all of my games and extracurricular activities and not just putting in a few minutes of face time but arriving early and staying late and shouting words of encouragement from the sidelines the whole time.  Actually, yours was the only voice I heard as it boomed surely cutting through any other noisy barriers.  I remember one time when I forgot to tell you about a choir concert until an hour or two before it started.  You and mom both simply said “we will be there.”  I was adamant about it not being important and not to worry if you couldn’t make it since I spaced out telling you earlier but when I saw you smiling proudly in the crowd I remember feeling so warmed to the core and proud to be your daughter. I also remember the times we would go nightcrawler hunting, puddle jumping in the rain, fishing, or camping in the boundary waters.  You were always looking for the next opportunity to hang out with me in the ways I loved and I love all those unique memories we got to share because of it.

 

Work hard, and, more importantly, play hard.  You are one of the most devoted workers I know.  I honestly despised the times I was recruited to help with various yard chores but I think a little bit of that is good for every kid.  But you worked to keep a good, safe house and to provide for our family and you always did so with such joy.  I’ve always loved that you find joy in everything you do so even working becomes playing for you it seems like.  That being said though, you are the best example of being a child at heart because you truly live for the times you can do the next fun thing with your family whether it be tubing, iceskating, a trip to the cabin, building a fire for all of us to sit around, playing Star Fox on the Nintendo 64, or playing a rousing game of Uno.  I could always tell the favorite part of your day was coming home to the family you clearly cherished.  

 

All consuming joy.  I think my favorite attribute of you is your ear to ear smile that frequently accompanies your booming laugh.  I love being a part of your laughter.  There is something so contagious about the joy you carry with you, especially with one look at your sparkling eyes.

 

Emanating Jesus.  I remember the time you told me the story about a little girl who looked into your eyes and saw Jesus.  I whole-heartedly hope that I may have an experience like that some day and hope that if I get nothing else right, that I do this.  You are such a great example of a devoted disciple.

 

Commitment.  This is also one of the seeds that stands out to me.  You taught me how to commit my all to things.  I remember a few times I asked if I could quit a sport or some other activity.  Each of these times I actually new full well that you would advise me to stay with it through the season and was actually most interested in the reminder of why I should.  You always had a way of graciously telling me to stick with the commitments I made.  My marriage is very grateful, this girl will never be giving up on her vow.  I also love the way you are committed to attending church.  Even if the rest of us are too lazy to go you are inspiring in your devotion to make it every week.

 

Financial responsibility.  I remember when I was a kid at the store asking for some toy.  I was always going to pay with my allowance but I felt compelled to ask you any way.  I suppose even at a young age I knew my best decisions would be made if I sought your wisdom first.  Anyway, I would ask and all you would ever say is “Kaia, do you need that?”  That simple question was enough to usually have me put back the latest piece of plastic entertainment and if it wasn’t then we would know I really thought there was a good purpose for having it.  To this day, I think that question every time I’m about to buy anything.

 

Painful honesty.  Every time you find a cashier over paid you you are sure to return any extra.  Whenever you can you will place lost objects back in the hands of its owner.  And I don’t think you have ever lied to me.  Even when I asked you about the birds and the bees at age five you were prepared to honestly reveal the workings to me.  I remember only a sentence or two got out before I stopped you from telling me more.

 

Boy scout preparedness.  You are known for having anything and everything you could possibly need or want on hand at all times.  In your man purse you carry things like fingernail clippers, army knife, gum, and Advil, just to name a few.  I took this legacy on at an early age, especially on road trips. I would bring any and every toy or mode of entertainment I thought I might need on the journey.  Now, later in life, I’ve toned down what I take on trips and ask myself “Kaia, do you really need that?” in conjunction with my need for a sense of preparedness just to tone down on the baggage.  In business, this lesson you departed on me is a major reason I have been so successful and seen as professional right out of college.  

 

And finally, the art of list making.  May it be a gift or a curse but I have lists all over.  I love knowing that I will always have a comrade in you here because you were the one that showed me what a valuable way this was for me to effectively use my time and remember to do important things.

 

Dad, I love you like crazy and am so proud to have you as a dad.  You have taught me so much and made me feel truly loved and cherished.  You taught me to never be afraid to show my love for Christ, to be the unique nutty child I am, and to never hold back when it comes to loving others.

Musings of a Musician’s Wife: blogging for a good story.

Good blogging requires an act of self revelation that is well beyond my comfort zone.  I’ve made a pact with myself to divulge the truth and the most interesting aspects of the truth in my life, I’ve found, are some of my deepest, most private moments.  I’ve been thinking on this since I’ve started sharing with this blogging world.  But I also have to remember that many other brave souls have gone before me.

I love a good story.  I love, even more, taking a role in a good story.  

Yesterday Josh and I ventured up to Milton for a short vacation together after such a length apart.  We are here for just a day, but it is lovely.  Mom and Dad Calhoun requested we drive the truck up so we could help them move some things today so Josh, the dogs, and I all clambered in yesterday evening.  Approximately ten minutes later Haley did a juicy toot right on my leg that left a residue and a gigantic lingering stench.  Right after she did her dirty she craned her neck to smell her mess and Sam followed as soon as he caught wind – oh the joys of dog ownership.

Musings of a Musician’s Wife: reflections on averting disaster.

Those of your committed readers know I faces intense breast exams in the past few weeks.  By the end of the slew of them I was starting to ponder what such tests could lead to and what that problem would lead to.  All day Friday I awaited the call for my partial biopsy to come back.  It was 2pm and I had no word.  I momentarily slipped and my mind wandered into the abyss of disaster…

They’ll chop my boobs off and I won’t be able to nurse any children.  I am simply doomed to die.  I will have to sickly endure radiation until I die.  I am going to cry at work.  I am going to have to leave work early when they tell me this so I can go home and cry.  I don’t have Josh to go home to and cry with about this.  I don’t have anyone to go home to and cry with.

I called the office and was put through to the voicemail of the Wendy who was apparently responsible for divulging such information.  I got calls from most of my family to comfort me and pray with me.  And I got one evil unknown call from a client, stupid me for thinking it was the doctor. It was  three more dreadful hours later before I got the call.  Everything is fine.

Musings of a Musician’s Wife: what it takes.

Marrying a musician throws you into a whole different ball game of marital learnings.  Not everyone could be married to a musician and make it, and I couldn’t be married to an Army man and make it.  I reserve those women married to our men serving our country as sort of saint-like wives.  When Josh is gone I am not worried about him getting killed, injured, taken hostage, or otherwise permanently changed.  I am not even worried about the fanatic, adoring, gawking women that cross his path.  All I have to do is endure the times when he’s gone by managing aloneness and holding the fort down and be sane enough by the end of the latest stint to do my best to give him the best homecoming I can manage.  However, here are the things I’ve had to learn in the past two an a half years to survive and thrive in such a marital lifestyle.

1.  Don’t cry little wife.  In our first year (actually, more literally, our first few months) I collapsed to bits every time Josh left for his weekend stints away.  We were wed in October and January marks the beginning of “retreat season” for the guys.  This means from then until April they are gone most weekends.  I most simply became a sort of blubbering mess, I think just out of immediate loneliness.  It’s like when you’re first in love and you have to go home from college for the summer.  Especially in the first moments of arriving at your long distance separation prison it feels almost as if your heart has been stretched across the distance and it aches simply because of the strain of surviving such an ailment.  When two are made one this distance suddenly becomes ten times longer.

2.  Put out that anger fire little wife.  Simply because he was not with me aroused this sort of fire-breathing, nasty wench.  The anger swooped in from left field, side swiped me and I was left staggering around the house in a fit of fury at nothing in particular.  So of course I took it out on Josh.  Apparently sometimes loneliness turns into frustrated fury.

3.  Don’t let that jealous monster eat you up little wife.  Josh gets to travel to all these cool places now.  In high school I thought it was my mission in life to see the world.  Instead, I daily travel from work to home then listen to my husband describe the world to me.  Fortunately, I also am doing what I love and it also allows, on occasion, a trip to somewhere different.

4.  Don’t let the money blow away little wife.  Perhaps the most recently frustrating and troublesome responsibility to take hold of me in our newest season of longer Josh absences is maintaining all there is in life.  In March the guys traveled to Nashville to record their single.  It was the end of the month.  Suddenly all the bills came in, half of which Josh normally took care of and I still had to wrap up the month of work and payroll along with daily dishes and weekly laundry.  Suddenly I was in way over my head.  This area I am still navigating but we have put be completely in charge of the finances, even making of them for now, and I’ve worked out most of the bugs.  To survive I’m really going to have to stay on top of my game and make sure that there’s money in the bank before paying the bills then pay the bills then handle the other bills.

5.  Hold up that house little wife.  As mentioned slightly in the previous marital requirement of a musician’s spouse, one of my other full time jobs is keeping the house spiffy.  Josh is a Mr. Clean.  When he’s home he does the dishes, laundry, and makes me food.  Those tasks have a lot more weight with me now than they did four months ago.  Pile those trivial tasks on with more than a full time job, handling the finances, and emotionally maintaining oneself you’ve got one wife barely keeping her face out of the water.  My method of solving my drowning predicament: routine.  I’ve found that managing life gets much simpler with a rhythm.  It’s like the drummer in the band of me.  Keeps me structured and on time.  Tidying is done before heading off to work along with walking the dogs, making the bed, packing my lunch and dinner, and walking the dogs, giving the dogs bones to gnaw on so they don’t destroy the place from boredom.  When I get home its all about getting the dogs out to relieve themselves and putting food in my belly.  Just before bed, it’s dishes and tidying up and only then may I lay down and catch some zzz’s.

All in all, what I’ve learned makes a musician’s wife is a woman of independence and responsibility who falls madly in love with a man who also loves music.  But not the type of madly that elicits frequent blubbering, fits of rage, and wallowing in jealous self-pity.