Taken in our yard in Maine on December 5, 2007. For weeks we'd been searching for the right Christmas card, looking online and in stores, but hadn't yet found anything we liked. As soon as Dan saw my test prints of that day's shots, he pointed to this image and said "That should be our Christmas card." So we ordered some Strathmore blank cards and printed, pasted, folded and decorated. Knowing how much I dislike my own handwriting, Dan agreed to sign them for both of us, so we set them on the kitchen counter, ready for signing and stamps. And that's where they were when his health suddenly took a final turn for the worse.

It's odd, I don't remember doing it, but I printed up some notes and put them in the cards and mailed them to our friends and family in time for New Year's Day. The last part of the note read: "...Dan was going to sign the cards for both of us, but that was not to be. I've been looking at them sitting here in the kitchen and I think he would want me to send them. I'm leaving them unsigned, because I think we are all feeling that sense of something missing, something that can't be replaced. But I hope you will feel the love that went into each and every card."

We didn't really discuss it, but I like to think that he chose this shot for the same reason I love it: it so clearly symbolizes what two people feel like when their time together suddenly becomes about survival. No matter how wonderful and supportive your friends and family may be, you still feel like it's just the two of you out there in the cold. And when life keeps piling more challenges and bad news on top of you, all you can do is stick close together, love each other, and hang in there.

Photo © 2008 Jean Fogelberg. Use with permission only.