It is not very often in life you get to meet someone who, in the span of about 3 hours, can have such an impact on your life. But indeed, Shirley was one of those shining lights. She took our family pictures several years ago and not only did she capture the essence of who we were as a family, but she had this incredible gift of just making you feel at ease, natural. She also had a knack of almost becoming invisible when she was behind the lens, letting the moment take over and trusting her keen eye to pick out the most intimate of snapshots. I can still see her standing on the slippery wet rocks in the Ottawa River, her pants were rolled up to her knees, just to get that perfect angle.
We stayed in contact after our photo session, partly because I felt so strongly and so positively about her photography that I wanted her to do everyone's work (she subsequently did my photo for my flyers when I ran in a municipal election, and again when she came to Canadian Blood Services to shoot our executives), but also because my wife Lisa and I felt she had in a way become a part of our family. Hell, if you ever visited our house and came into the family room, our wall was adorned with family pictures, many of them shot by Shirley.
She touched so many lives through her passion, yet she was always humble about her talent. And while she was incredible at shooting people, her real passion was dogs. I remember her telling me that she'd always take her camera with her when she left the house, walking down the street and taking pictures of people's pooches. When I asked what she preferred to shoot the most, she said "Dogs. They never complain."
She documented her painful, often frustrating battle with cancer through Facebook and her blog. She didn't use it to hold what she would call a 'pity party' - but if she did, she'd quickly apologize and follow-up with something positive about life and living and to savour every moment. I was awestruck at her strength, which I believe came from her being brutally honest about herself and what she was going through. To me, that is strength - that is a characteristic we should all embrace.
We (Lisa and I) knew Shirley from a distance. There are many people who knew her far longer and more intimately than we did. But she left such an indeliable impression on our family, an undeniable positive presence. So few people have that impact on one's life, but she had that gift. So I guess this is really just an open letter to someone I'll always remember, admire, miss, and wish for just one more day to let her know what she meant to us. But something tells me, she knew. Artists like Shirley do.