He took this picture after his last haircut.  He sent it to me to show off how clean cut and handsome he thought he looked with a new haircut.  He got his haircut every six weeks, on the dot.  If it went past six weeks, he’d complain incessantly till he got it cut.    I knew of his schedule.  I was gone for this hair cut, so he sent me a photo.  He was so proud to stay right on schedule.  

It was so recent I sent it to the funeral home for color matching to get the makeup colors right for his corpse.   I didn’t send it in for the program, they just put it in there.  I never thought when he snapped it that day, I’d be using it to match his skin tone for his corpse make up.  It all just happened so fast. A funeral picture wasn’t supposed to be what that picture was used for.  When I saw it in the program I cringed.  That picture wasn’t supposed to be in here.  

This picture with our new baby I gave the funeral home just to show his skin tone in a different light.  They put this one in the program too.  I look at this and think, why did this dad have to have this picture in his funeral program?  Look how little that baby is.  And the other little boy in the picture, a bit bigger, that boy needs that dad.  This picture shouldn’t be in a funeral program.  What is going on?? 

And this picture of you Grant and two of your boys was the last picture you sent me before I came home from my trip to Idaho Yoga training.   I got home Saturday night you were gone Monday evening.  Less than 48 hours from when I got home from being gone for a week, you were gone forever.  

You sent this picture to show me what a great dad you were being while I was away, making hot dogs for the boys, you liked to be a show-off.  And wow… hot dogs, a real chef… and making sure they were getting their nutrients while I was away… well if you're not picking up the sarcasm… at least those smiles tell me they were happy boys and dad was a proud daddy. 

I just stared at this one at your funeral as it stared back at me from the program.  A funeral program wasn’t what that picture was taken for.  Why didn’t I take more photos?  Better ones.   Gosh I wish I had.  If only I’d known what was going to be 5 days before you were gone.  I wouldn’t have left on my trip.  I would have stayed with you. 

You would have flown more if I hadn’t gone on my trip.  Maybe you’d have died sooner.  Maybe it was good I went?  Maybe that prolonged your life, gave the boys more one on one time with their daddy, even if just 1 week.  What if I hadn’t gone?  Maybe you’d have gotten more flying in, so you wouldn’t have gone so much when I got back. And that one day, the last one; the one where you went twice in one day, would that day have turned out the same?  

You’d already gone flying in the morning of the day you died.  You went AGAIN that night.  Why did you have to leave us again, and it turned into forever.  Were you in such a hurry to catch up on missed flying time that you needed to go twice in one day?  That second flight, the one when you crashed,  and hit so hard that you didn’t get up from that fall.  All this is circling in my head as I am looking at this picture you took while I was gone. 

You took it to show off your skills as a dad, not to put in your own funeral program.  So here I am at your funeral and this picture you took while I was gone glares at me as I’m sitting here looking at it.  I’m looking at it  because you’re gone.  You’ll never go flying again.  You’ll now never be able to catch up on more flying.  It’s all over.  The fun ended.  You pushed it too far. You did this… why? 

I had no idea or even a thought these pictures would be used for your funeral program just after they were taken.  Now I can’t ever look at a picture with you in it without thinking; that was taken 5 days before you died, that was taken 2 years before you died.  If only I’d known that I had 2 more years.  What would I have done differently?  

Now I don’t think about the what if’s, or the ‘maybes’ or the I wish I’d known.  I look at those pictures now and think, how can this still be?  The maybes don’t really matter anymore because what is, is.  The ‘I wishes’ turn into what can I do now.  The why’s turn into what to do now.  So, next time, I won’t say ‘I wish I had’ or ‘what if’ about this moment. 

Now I look at those pictures and think, what’s the best thing that can come from these pictures?  The pictures that turned into skin color matching and funeral programs.  Those pictures remind me now to ‘keep taking pictures,’ better ones.  I consciously make better memories; smile bigger, live bigger and take lots of pictures.  So we don’t miss out, so I don’t wish I would have and so I can stop the ‘Maybes’.  

Be here, present and be real.  Now is all I know I have.  I let us then be happy again because that feels good now, and it’s ok to feel good when good feeling is available to feel. I get to choose it, so I do.  Because I’m alive and I can.  With my boys, the ones still here, I remember these moments with each one, and cherish them.  I fully cherish every one of them, and each one of you. This is what I think of when I take pictures now, to be happy in them, and be really happy.