There is more to a person’s legacy than diamonds and pearls, although seeing those valued trinkets passed down the generations 
does warm my heart. My mother’s real legacy is her reminder to stand back up after one has fallen into tough years, and not with her words, but with her actions through all those tough years. It is easier to reminisce about carefree summers on the beach or raising a hopeful glass on New Year’s Eve than admit to harsher seasons, but recalling how my mother navigated with 4 teenagers plus 2 younger children, a husband who was intently searching for a way out of his own angst, all amidst the turbulent 1960’s, those years show what tough really looks like. We didn’t have an easy time of it. She most of all. Family photos reveal more about the unseen than anticipated. But never did she stop believing that we would make it through to a sunnier day.
Tag Archives: Photography
Mother Talks #3
The day after my mother passed I found myself searching for her. Perhaps this is normal. Perhaps even the first stage of grief. All I know is I could not get enough of her. Every dusty photo became a treasure I was seeing for the first time. Even braving the traffic from New Jersey through Manhattan, over the Brooklyn Bridge and past Prospect Park, to stand on these steps, the very ones my mother skipped up and down, the steps her many beaus walked, and finally through this doorway went my father. This home, 1510 on Albemarle Road, that housed my great-grand parents and their ten, then my grandparents and their eight, a house where I brought two of my own for visits. A place to celebrate Easter and Thanksgiving and Christmas. Where my grandfather’s casket was brought and the house filled with condolences. The house my grandmother packed up and said goodbye to, and yet I found myself here, sensing the shadow of generations, of a mother who I miss.
Mother Talks: #1
Although a fabulous pretender my mother was not a fly by nighter: she was a planner. In August we planned our Christmas gathering, at Christmas we planned our summer reunion. While I begin the task of emptying her scarf drawer, winter closet and filing cabinet, I see that some of her plans weren’t as rock solid as I once thought to be, but compared to who I was at say 15 or even 26, I can state for certain she got me to look forward and plot out a life worth looking back on. My mother usually began our random solitary talks quick to the chase by asking, “What’s your five year plan?” On first hearing, her question was as alien to me as reading Mandarin, maybe even more so.
Nine Cent Girl 