Time has a way of moving faster than we realize, and portraits that include grandparents are essential in my book. Especially when a loved one is facing a terminal illness, every moment becomes even more precious. Over the years, I’ve seen firsthand how meaningful it is to capture the essence of the present, knowing that a loved one is in their final season of life.

These sessions aren’t about illness—they’re about the love shared between family members, the connection that binds them. They’re about preserving the way their hands feel in yours, the gentle way they smile, knowing it may be the last one shared, and the quiet strength they carry even in the hardest times. These photographs become a tangible reminder of their place in a family’s story—even for those yet to be born. It’s something to hold onto when words can’t express how much they mean to you.

A Family Perspective

"In 2016, my dad had been fighting stage 4 cancer for two years. My siblings and I knew we wanted pictures of him with our children. At that time, I was 4-5 months pregnant and swollen everywhere. When I woke up that morning, I spent precious time getting my son ready for pictures. I showered but didn't dry my hair or put on any makeup. I was even wearing one of my husband's long-sleeved shirts.

I had zero interest in being in the pictures, which is what I told Sandra upon her arrival. She was disappointed, but I assured her that I was certain I didn't want a picture.

Throughout the photoshoot she worked on me. Eventually, she looked at me and said, "if you don't take these pictures, you will always regret it."

I fingered through my frizzy hair, pinched my cheeks and borrowed my mother's scarf. I took the pictures, unhappily. My thought was, no one has to see them.

My dad entered hospice care the Monday before my daughter was born. He died 20 days after she was born. I have a few pictures of him after the photoshoot but because he went down hill fast they just didn't look like him.

Every year, I post the photo Sandra took of my dad and I on Father's Day, his birthday, and the day he died. That picture reminds me of him! Who he was before the disease completely took over. It is one of my most treasured photos. I cannot believe that I almost didn't take the picture because I didn't like the way I looked. In the end, it didn't even matter. It's a picture of my hero. When I see it, I don't see myself swollen and pregnant. I don't see my unstyled hair or my husband's shirt. I see a picture of the man whom I looked up to my entire life. I see him showing love to me." 

~ Kristen Trivette