I had the pleasure of first photographing Tayven Dane John Melnyk in 2018.
Tayven was born in 2014 and was diagnosed with a brain tumour in 2016. He underwent surgery and treatment, then experienced a recurrence, followed by more treatment and another surgery. I had initially taken family photos for the Melnyk family in 2018, and shortly afterward, I approached them and asked if I could come back and photograph more. I wanted to do something meaningful with my photography. A personal project.
After talking with Tayven’s mom, Megan, we decided to go ahead. The plan was that every few weeks or months, I would come to their home, and photograph Tayven and his family. At the time, we didn’t know if we would share the photographs. We only knew that it felt like the right thing to do. So when I could, I showed up with my camera in hand.
I went to Tayven’s home and photographed him with his mom, dad Dane, and sister Lawson. I witnessed mornings, potty training, naps, iPad time, birthday parties, sibling disagreements, play time and bedtime. I photographed endless games of cars and trains and Mario Kart. I photographed feedings through a g-tube. I watched Tayven spit chocolate chip cookies into a cup because he couldn’t swallow but wanted to taste. I saw Tayven love Christmas, kinder surprises and big giant eggs with gifts inside. I watched him get medications and needles at home, I went to hospital visits for things I didn’t always understand, but stood there with my camera anyway. We'd stop at the toy store on the way home to pick a new toy for his collection. I witnessed the relationship with the people that cared for him. I watched a mother stay beside her child, day after day, moving through something no mother should ever have to experience.
I photographed these moments between 2018 and 2021. In 2021, Tayven passed away. I was honoured to photograph his funeral.
The family was given the photos that I took and truly, that is enough. However, for years I thought about if this story and photos deserved to be somewhere else. A book, blog post, a gallery, social media, a website? Nothing ever seemed big enough or meaningful enough for the life they represented. I had photographed the last three or so years of Tayven’s life, and narrowing it down to a set of photos on a screen just never felt like enough. It was five years of holding on to them when I came to realize that these photos are not a representation of his life, but just a small piece, some of his time. I really reflected on what this meant for me.
I had the pleasure of knowing Tayven. I was invited into this families life to witness ordinary moments and I got to bring my camera with me.
It wasn't always easy. Sometimes I wondered if I should be there. I always wondered if I was doing a good enough job. In July 2018 I strapped my youngest baby on my back and flew to California to photograph Tayven at Disneyland and Cars Land. I thought I was crazy then and I look back and still think I was a little crazy. However, I sure am proud of myself for doing so. Tayven and his family allowed me this opportunity to take photos, this opportunity to grow.
When I photographed Tayven, I left my five kids, apart from the baby on my back in Disneyland, at home. It felt important. It sometimes felt hard, and sometimes sad, but it always felt like something I should be doing.
I had the privilege of photographing a mother that knew she was going to lose her child. I watched her day in and out on her hands and knees, present. Playing with her child. I watched her say yes, and yes again. Then, after witnessing this, I was able to to go to my home and parent my own children. I was able to take with me that perspective and apply it to my every day, my children, my life. Truly, a gift.
These photographs are not a representation of Tayven’s life. They are not his legacy. His life was so much bigger than these images, and his family has thousands of photographs that tell that story in ways I never could. This collection of photographs are simply a small piece of the time I was lucky enough to spend with him.
They are for his family.
And, finally, some are shared.
I hope Tayven, his family and I created a reminder that we don’t know how long we have with the people we love. Thanks to Tayven, we are reminded that we should say yes! That we should get on the floor and play. That we should hold our babies a little longer, for ourselves, and for those who no longer get to.
And maybe, when we have something to give, we should give it. Our time. Our presence. Our talents. Whatever we are able to offer.
I was able to offer a camera. Photos.
I do believe I received so much more in return.
Thank you Tayven.
Your photographer,
Jenna xo
