In memory of the 2nd anniversary of the passing away of our dad,
Neville Lue Shue on January 26, 2020.
The substance of this poem presented itself to me three mornings ago while I was semi-awake in my bed. Some of it was almost word for word, but mostly it was a sentiment of presence like a faint whisper from someone yet unseen. I awoke in a particularly peaceful mood and proceeded to give form to my inspiration, knowing intuitively that it would serve my expression to Dad’s memory today. In this presentation, I added one of the black and white photos from his photography work in the earlier days of my childhood. A time from when I hold deep memories of him working in his darkroom, the smell of the chemicals and the magic of images appearing on film in the red light. I remember him giving me a Kodak Brownie camera when I was about 7 years old and then an old Twin Lens Rolleiflex camera by age 10. Dad eventually gave up photography and concentrated on camera repairs as a sideline. Although I never took up photography on a professional scale, I have always dabbled in it and once bought myself a second-hand Ricoh camera at university from a professional photographer. That camera served me very well to take slides of my artwork, much of which I have now digitized. I have also photographed some of dad’s old prints and digitized some of his own slides.
The camera captures much more than images on the other side of the lens, it also captures the thoughts and the spirit of the photographer. Today, I can perceive Dad’s loving spirit in the many photos that he took of Mom, my younger sister, Deborah and I. I am deeply grateful for all those photographs that documented a time from our past and help us remember how he expressed his love; a love that never dies. I share some of these photos here as testimony of Dad’s devotion to his family. Dad, although these photos are frozen in time, through your own eyes then, we can see you again today. Today, your family raises a toast to you in heaven. Know that you too are beloved.
2 thoughts on “Beloved / Bien-aimé”
Complètement inspiré et très touchant
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Lovely tribute cuz. I was recently listening to a webinar on photography. You know the saying you die three times; once when you stop living, once when they bury you, and once when the last word is spoken about you. This speaker added a fourth time, once when the last person looks at a photograph of you. Photographs are part of our stories and our legacies. Hope you are well.
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