Very recently I lost my hero, a woman instrumental in raising me and a beloved Grandma to all who knew her – family or otherwise. It was the most difficult goodbye I have ever experienced and just writing this post tears stream down my face. She taught me how to write my name, how to turn caterpillars into butterflies, how to sew a pillow, how to love family unconditionally and how to make potato soup on a cold day. She taught me that no amount of money can ever be more valuable than what you have inside you. Kindness, creativity, thoughtfulness, the choice to do the right thing, and how you treat others is what is important.
Photography is a tool that can be used in many different ways. For me, I had to take photographs as a way of expressing outwardly what was happening inside, a way to cope with grief, to see and understand through the viewfinder what was difficult in the present. The sound of the old, large Hasselblad shutter slamming down was therapeutic. A show of respect. This is important to me, you were important to me with each click. It is painful and beautiful to look at the images so raw and real, a universal experience we all as human beings share. Thank god for photography…it has saved me so many times.
She was beautiful and wild, she had her father’s green thumb, she was amazing at crafts and I’ll ALWAYS miss her potato soup and cornbread, the memories of standing in the kitchen together, and most of all she loved her family past and present.
To every spring, my Grandma, I will think of you when the garden starts to grow. To every red bird that sits on my windowsill I will think of it as you stopping by to say hello.
Much love until we see each other again.
To my family – though my work takes me far away, I carry you all inside my heart and think of you often, as I hope to be half the woman she was.
