Waiting at the hospital, a part II of sorts...

What do you say when you know something is wrong and you are just waiting to hear it conclusively? I didn't know then and I don't know now.

I can be there for family, I can drive all night and I can stay and wait and I can ferry people around and I can do everything else. But what do you say?

I couldn't find any words then. I just did what I always do when I'm overwhelmed. I buried my face behind a book, or behind my camera. I can hide behind a book, I can lose myself in it, I can block those staring eyes and I can ignore the world.

My camera lets me see the world, experience it, but still hide from it. I feel like a ghost when I have my camera in front of my face. I can hide from the emotions, and just try to capture them. To revisit them later, when I am more capable of dealing with it.

I don't know if it was better that I hid behind my camera, or worse, but at least I have a photo of my nana smiling. And all I can think of when I see that photo is how beautiful she looks. It helps me to remember the fun and the happy times, and to forget the cancer and the tears. I'm glad I thought to throw my camera in the bag before we ran out the door.