People often ask photographers about the toughest wedding they have ever covered. For me, there is one experience that stands out above all the rest. Though the event lasted only about an hour, the lessons I took away from it have stayed with me ever since.
I have faced many difficulties at work, including long hours, injuries, and missing equipment. But this brief celebration of love and life touched me in a way nothing else has.
On Labor Day afternoon, a friend called to tell me about a young bride named Nina. She was just 19 years old and had been told she might not survive the night. Nina’s wedding to her fiancé Joey had been rescheduled to take place at 5 p.m. from an earlier time. The original photographer could no longer attend, and my friend asked if I could step in. I didn’t know then how much this day would change me.
I quickly packed my camera and drove to St. Joseph’s Children’s Hospital. Nina was too weak to walk, and instead of the chapel, we held the ceremony in her pediatric intensive care room.
I was surprised by the atmosphere. Rather than sadness, the room was filled with laughter, teasing, and joy. Joey and Nina had been childhood friends who met at camp. They fell in love and dreamed of growing old together. Cancer stole that future from them.
The hospital room was simple, with monitors and medical equipment surrounding them. Pictures from their travels replaced the usual flowers. Nina lay in her bed wearing her wedding dress, a bouquet resting nearby. Joey stood close, ready to support her.
When Joey entered the room, my heart was pounding so loudly I could barely focus. The words they spoke to each other might have been lost on me, but the way they looked at one another told the whole story. it was that kind of love that didnt need any words to express actions was enough.
Nina’s last line was a wish which was very simple: to live a happily married life with her soulmate and to be surrounded by her loved once . They shared moments of tears and laughter, even playfully smearing frosting on each other’s noses.
The day before, I was struggling with my own grief, overwhelmed by sadness after losing my father. But being there with Nina and Joey gave me a new perspective.
A friend later said something that stayed with me: “Whatever is weighing you down isn’t worth it. Live for those who cannot.”
At 19, Nina showed what it means to truly live, even in the face of great loss.
Her courage and joy touched me deeply. I went to that wedding to take photos, but I left with a new way of seeing life.
