For Vito and Carmella
Ah, the first Mother’s Day without Millie, ’tis joyful and sad.
Happy Mother’s Day to all you amazing mothers out there!❤️
Little T grew up at my husband’s nursery. Her coop was decimated this Wednesday. Her unique personality will be forever treasured. She reminded us all how far a little happiness can go.
I must admit, I’ve been a meat-eater in the past. Over the last few years, I’ve stopped eating red meat, but have dined on poultry. Writing this piece has inspired me to finalize the vegetarian push. My son turned vegetarian two years ago, he’s a fabulous role model.
I hope you’re all managing each day okay.
Can’t recall what was going through my head in 2016 when I created this image.
I wish I could remember.
This piece once vaguely reminded me of John Baldessari’s artwork in the 1980’s—placing bright adhesive dots on random faces in photographs.
Since last year, the mask-like shape and those sad brown eyes have taken on a life all their own.
The nurses and aides who worked at my mother’s nursing home were spectacular in their compassionate care. As I stood outside looking through my mother’s window, they daily entered a place where Covid was. They amazed me with their bravery and perseverance. (As of this writing, Covid numbers have dropped significantly) When my mom was moved to palliative care, I was permitted to enter the facility and spend time with her each day until she passed away. Though I had the requisite PPE, I was nervous, not so much for myself, but for my family. I didn’t want to bring the virus home. That first day I sat beside Millie, I thought about Leon. Leon, a custodian, who like the nurses and the aides, moved in and out of the same rooms they did exemplifying the same kindness, perseverance, and bravery.
I thank all first responders, healthcare workers, those on the frontlines, and the unsung who’ve been dealing with Covid head on since the beginning.
This photo was taken a few weeks before my beautiful mom became bedridden.