I steal thiz article from an International magazine…hehe

On Time

We all have our ways of marking time. As a photographer, my life is measured from one story to the next. I bought my first house in Nebraska while I was on assignment shooting Americ’s Gulf Coast. My oldest son was born in the middle of a long story about the Endangered Species Act. My daughter came along with a pack of gray wolves.

Twenty stories later, though, it’s the story on Alaska’s North Slope that I’ll remember most. It was about the loss of wilderness and innocence-and the story during which my wife got cancer. That’s the one that made time stand still.

Kathy and I met at a blues bar in college. She had long blond hair and thought I was funny. Beautiful, graceful, and patient, she has remained my muse for 24 years, despite the thousands of times I’ve forced her to be photographed. She may have gotten tired of it now and then. I stopped taking pictures on the day she found that tumor in her right breast. It was the size of a hen’s egg. Some days she was so sick she couldn’t watch TV. One day she couldn’t even talk.

Early detection saves lives. But ours was not early. By the time you can feel it to yourself, it’s often bigger than the doctors want it to be.

Cancer is a thief. It steals time. Our days are already short with worry. Then comes this relentless disease, unfair as a hailstorm at harvesttime. But cancer also has the power to transform us, for good. We learn to simplify, appreciating what we have instead of lamenting what we don’t.

Cancer even made me a better father. My work had made me a stranger to my three kids. But now I pay attention to what really matters. This is not a race. This is a new way of life and new way of seeing, all from one malicious lump.

In the end each of us has so little time. We have less of it than we can possibly imagine. And even though it turns out that Kathy’s cancer has not spread, and her prognosis is good, we try to make it all count now, appreciating every part of every day.

I’ve picked up my camera again. I watch the sky, searching for beautiful light. When winter storms come, Kathy and I gather our children and take the time to catch snowflakes on our tongues. After all, this is the good stuff. This is what we’re living for. (Joel Satore)


bY A thief: Lelaki-boemi in Kajhu Village