(no subject)
But sometimes it is.
I make pretty frames for pictures. It's crafty, and creative and I love it.
I can expect it to be interesting, challenging, sometimes frustrating.
The only work-related sorrow I can remember was a dream I had once that I was framing the jacket of a fallen fire-fighter.
So, last week I took two orders for framing. One was a woman who had a series of photos of her holding her cat done by the professional photographer across the street. The other was a woman who had a picture of her infant son that needed reframing and a picture of a newborn baby girl to be framed to match. I helped her pick out frames, put away her artwork and thought nothing more of it.
My boss noticed the boy's picture today and asked if the customer had told me the baby died a few days after the photo was taken--some illness that runs in their family. I said no. He said that last he'd heard she'd had another baby but they thought it was sick too. I think that's the girl-baby in the other shot. I think it's dead too.
And the pretty Siamese cat in the lady's arms in the photo? Lukemia or something. It was dying when the pictures were taken. It was put to sleep a few days later.
For the rest of the day I was asking "Is this baby dead?" "Is this dog still alive?" I wondered about every photograph that I saw.
I guess I havent been exposed to much death so far in my life. I really am grateful for that.
-J.