Okay, it's a memorial service, not a funeral. There is no body, since he was cremated. We are mourning Cameron's death, but all the while celebrating his life. My dad asks me to take a few pictures for him; my Aunt Shirley wants at least one of everybody, so she can send out thank you cards.
There are a few pictures of raccoon eyes, that was unavoidable.
With my father's Cannon Rebel, I tried to capture the meaning of the event. I shot pictures of people watching the powerpoint of all the pictures of Cameron we could find. They were pointing with mouths open, telling the story that went with the picture. Sometimes crying, often laughing.
There are many hugs, but my two favorites are of a little boy.
He is laughing, spinning, mid-fall in one. In the other, He is riding Cameron's English Bulldog like a horse.
Something about that little boy made me hopeful. He followed me around, pointing out good pictures to be taken. I complied, some of the ones he suggested turned out great.
This boy was less than two years old, but made many people hope again.