If you ask any photographer what their favorite or most memorable photo is, it is not necessarily the most picturesque one, or the one that most “popular” one that a majority of their peers like. The most common answer I get are the photos with meaningful story: the ones with a memorable they were with or the special moments that lead up to the photo. This photo means the world to me. To every one else, it is a simple photo of the Yosemite cathedral in the valley. To me though, it means so much more than that.

My father passed away early this year. With his cancer taking a turn for the worse mid last year, it was something that was both a surprise and wasn’t: the hopeful part of me was always hoping that he would recover, (because who wouldn’t want that for someone they love?). I was banking on chance, and hoping that he would beat the odds. However the other, logical part of me: the one that generally rules most of my thought processes, was very well aware that he may not: but still, i was optimistic.

Two weeks before he passed away, I went on an impromptu trip to Yosemite National Park, one of my favorite places. My friend and I had actually planned to visit two weeks later, but we saw weather predictions of the snow coming in and decided to make the six hour drive up to try to catch it. The snow actually hit the valley the night before, which was a nice because as much as I visited Yosemite, I have never been there in the snow before.

The Government shutdown had just occurred, so the park was quiet and mostly empty. It was a beauty, having this huge park blanketed with fresh snow. Hardly do I ever see Yosemite without tourists, and for a brief moment, I got to respesct nature as it should be: untouched by humans.

I remember stopping by the chapel, walking in to the empty pews, and sat down alone, praying hard for my Dads health. I asked for strength, strength for me, to get though this, and strength for him, to keep fighting the uphill battle.

Perhaps it was selfish of me to do this: I stopped going to church well over a decade ago, and yet, here I am, asking for such a huge thing. It didn’t matter though: my Dad was still taken from me two weeks later.

I am grateful for one thing though: that I was able to be with him during his final moments. Had I have gone when I had planned to, I would not have been by his side when he passed.

In this way, this photo is my most memorable photo, and Yosemite will always have a special place in my heart.