I just spent the last week in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania, 890 miles away from where I currently am in Minnesota, celebrating the life of a musician I only met twice. I saw Mac Miller in concert three times before he passed, and I’m thankful for every single memory, photo, and video I have of those experiences. There were hundreds of people across North America there, all for the same reason: to celebrate his life and our shared experience with his music.

It was an insanely powerful experience from start to finish, and I met people that I’d known online for upwards of three years. We came together as a group of fans, and left as a family (cheesy I know). I had the fortunate experience to photograph a lot of it. From moments of friends reuniting for the first time in a year, to people so encapsulated in the music they were blaring through Blue Slide Park that their existence in that moment was the only thing that truly mattered.

Everywhere you looked, there were people laughing, crying, and smiling about the grand event they were experiencing in real time, right in front of them. People from all walks of life coming together to celebrate one person and all the art they created throughout their lifetime. It’s hard not to smile about.

I’ve learned over the years that photographing things like this event, to tiny moments in simple life can be a comfort long after moment has passed. I’ll be looking at these little snippets of my life until the day I die, appreciative for my chance to finally go and experience it myself. I’ve looked at pictures of my friends I’ve taken, and come to appreciate them even more after I’ve had some friends pass.

Like the pictures or videos of Mac I took a long time ago, I visit them time and time again and try and relive those moments as best as I can possibly muster. Most of us have unfortunately experienced the death of a loved one, close friend, or pet, and that pain never truly goes away, the empty space and sharp pains just dull to an ache.

After spending an entire weekend celebrating the life of one person, I couldn’t help but think about another.

When I dropped out of school back in 2016, I moved back to Rochester, and cut off pretty much everyone I was close with. I was struggling with my mental health severely, and at the time, I don’t think I wanted to bother them with it. Michelle and Dustin took me under their wing pretty much as soon as I moved to Mankato. Michelle got me into rock climbing, got me the job at the rock wall at my school there, and Dustin opened up the world of what was possible with the sport, taking me climbing to places I’d never been before.

When things got really tough in 2016, Dustin and Michelle took me in and gave me a bed to sleep in, a backyard to relax in, two dogs to snuggle with, and an amazing set of friends all built into one little house. I was still struggling immensely, but I had a web of support around me for the first time in my life. I can never repay them for that.

Once the semester was over, I dropped out of school, and dropped off the face of the planet, leaving everyone behind. I didn’t want to bother them with my issues, completely avoiding any history where they had helped me considerably through those very same issues. I left behind all my friends and tried to bury my feelings in Rochester. For a few years I was just going through the motions, trying to get better so I could return to Mankato stronger for the people that made me feel at home for the first time.

I lived with my grandpa once I dropped out of school, he had broken his hip, and my family didn’t want him going to a home. I was working full time, taking care of my grandpa (read bribing him with muffins to shower), and raising a puppy for my first year back in Rochester.

In April of 2017, I was taking Miah out late at night, and she ran into my grandpa’s room like she usually did, to jump up on his bed and lick him until she got a reaction out of him. This time she jumped up, and I didn’t hear him yelling “MIRAH STOP” for the first time. I rushed into the room, flipped on the light, and saw an empty bed. I found him laying next to his bed on the floor, barely conscious, and called 911. He died less than a week later in the ICU due to a brain bleed.

I hardly took any pictures or videos of him, and now he was gone. I forgot to take my meds the following two weeks, and was in absolute shambles. Walking into the house, empty, not greeted by my grandpa tapping his wrist with no watch on it, was uncomfortable. No Judge Judy, no Grey’s Anatomy, just silence. O’Malley would jump down from wherever he was perched and rub against my leg, and I would hear Miah wake up upstairs. The next few months droned on, feeling like a sort of limbo as I watched over the house, the cat, and a dog.

I was in and out of social media, not really paying attention to anything but doom scrolling. I knew Michelle and Dustin were going to be having a baby, and I remember seeing the posts when their daughter was finally born. I checked out again for nearly 9 months before I found out Michelle had passed. I ran into Dustin at Costco a month or two later, hugged him, and saw their daughter in a carriage. I nearly asked where Michelle was. I was climbing at the local gym 6 months later where two people from Mankato happened to be climbing, and I mentioned getting Michelle and Dustin to host another Friendsgiving when their faces just dropped. They sat me down and told me what happened. I sat there for a few minutes swimming in every thought swirling around in my head, and in more than likely a state of shock, just kept climbing. Those moments haven’t left my mind since.

The guilt of not knowing about Michelle’s passing has eaten at me since, and spending an entire weekend celebrating a musician’s life only aggravated it. To say Michelle was a huge positive force in my life, and still is to this day, would be an understatement. I can not put into words what Michelle, Dustin, and everyone else from that time in my life means to me, and how appreciative I am to have known them.

Give your friends their flowers while they are still alive and can still smell them. And please, for the love of all that is good in this world, take pictures and videos of your friends and loved ones, because one day they may be your most cherished memories.

Thank you. Memento Mori.