I frequently open this photo. Make it big on my screen. I take in all the ways we look the same and the ways we look different. I think I like this photo of her the most because those beautiful blues are direct and full of kindness. It was long before she ever started to battle her own mental health or breast cancer. The latter she ran into three times, the former kept her from taking the chemotherapy pills she needed to keep the disease at bay. It’s sad, really, because she could still be here. I can’t know that for sure but it’s how I feel about the whole thing.
Then again, I always worried about what was going to happen to her later in life. My greatest fear was that something would snap full ways with the schizophrenia and she’d end up institutionalized or living on the street. Isn’t that a crazy thing to think about the beautiful face above? The question I ask myself the most when looking at my mom is, what happened to you? I’ve had three years to sit and think about it and I don’t think I’ll ever really have an answer. She got a rough deal and she still tried to make nice days for herself throughout it. I think that’s one of the most beautiful things about having an indomitable spirit and something about her that I will hold dear always.
