about rebecca

She passed away when I was just 14, after a 13-year battle with brain cancer. That was 20 years ago, as of March 2025.

As a 19-year-old girl from rural Oklahoma, she fell in love with my dad while he was stationed nearby in the military. Their love took them across the world—to Greece, where my oldest brother was born—before they settled on the East Coast. I was their youngest, born a decade after my siblings.

Before I even turned one, she was given only a year to live. And while I do remember the hospital visits and the seizures, what stands out most are the simple, beautiful moments—gardening together, baking in the kitchen, marveling at flowers in bloom. I remember the way her love wrapped around me. I remember the way she loved others. What a gift.

But what I don’t have? Are many photographs of her as the woman I knew.

She shied away from the camera, worried about how she looked as she fought through treatments.

And now, as a mother myself, I understand all too well how easy it is to hide behind the camera, to focus on capturing everyone else. But here’s the truth: we do our families a disservice when we erase ourselves from the story.

Motherhood is a story worth documenting—the quiet moments, the belly laughs, the way your hands cradle your baby bump, and the wonder of those first few weeks earthside. It’s a fleeting, beautiful journey, and I want to help you preserve it. Because these moments? They are treasures, and they deserve to be remembered.

With 15 years of experience as a photographer—and as a mom to two wild and wonderful little boys—I know firsthand how quickly time moves. I know the silly, the sweet, the chaos, and the love that fills your days. And I know how important it is to freeze those moments before they slip away.

Photographs are more than just images; they are the tangible proof of the love we give and receive. They become heirlooms, a way for our children to look back and feel just how deeply they were loved.




One day, these photographs will be more than just pictures—they will be proof. Proof of your love, your presence, your warmth. Proof that you were here, loving them through every single season.

And that? That is a gift worth giving.

For me, photographs are all I have left of my mother. 

Mama, you are irreplaceable.