A couple of weeks back I had the honor of photographing a homecoming for one of our military families. It was an editing day for me, and I was checking Facebook when I got tagged to a post from someone looking for a photographer. It was a short notice request. Her husband was coming home a week early and the photographer she'd hired for the event was booked that night. As a veteran, and a military wife as well, I understand how important these events are. I could make it happen, so I offered my services. We got plans ironed out, and I had my gear ready to go.
I didn't want to show up in my "editing day" outfit (old t-shirt and shorts or *gasp* pajama pants), so I headed upstairs to get dressed. My door was locked. My keys were IN. MY. ROOM. Noooo! Panic set in as I realized that I had no way to get into my room, or transportation to the airport. I called my neighbor to see if she could give me a ride. Worse case scenario I'd just look... um... eccentric when I showed up. She didn't answer; I was running out of time. My husband was across town at work, also not answering.
By now I was envisioning my client standing in the terminal waiting for me to show up. She didn't have a cell phone, so I couldn't let her know what was going on. I could just feel her growing concern, and how she'd feel when she realized nobody was coming. Suddenly, I heard a big CRASH! upstairs. My 13-yr-old son had been trying to get my door open, and finally just put all his weight into it. The doorjamb was a little messed up, but not seriously. I rushed in, dressed, and dashed out the door.
I was so thankful that my son was able to come to my rescue, so I could go and capture this hero's return to his family. :)
I am an artist at heart and have been ever since I can remember. I have been blessed with four beautiful children and an amazing husband. One of my favorite things to do is help others capture beautiful memories that will last a lifetime.