On February 12th of 2015 I was told that my mom had esophageal cancer.
On August 5th of 2015 she passed away.
As I sat in my house, over a thousand miles away from my family, I began the grieving process. Crying daily in private while talking to my sister, father and best friend pretending to be the strong one.
Having always made photographs instinctually I began to make images in the moment with any device I had near me. Each image I see now as a moment that helped me to grieve, to process and to move forward to the next day.
Everyone’s grieving process is different, each day is a struggle. I watch a movie and want to share with her how silly the plot is or the small inconsistencies in a film but I can’t. I want to ask her about a dress or does this match but I can’t. What I can do is smile and be happy with the time we did have. Be happy that she raised 2 strong women who, while a bit battered and bruised, know who we are and where we’ve come from.
I talk to her daily and every other Friday I go and have lunch with her. I lay in the prickly grass, hope the ants don’t get in my hair. I feel the sun beat down on my face and tell her about my week.