I do My Grieving in the Morning.

My mom died, unexpectedly, on Thursday March 23, 2023. That night my dad, uncle, and I went to my brother and sister-in-law’s house for dinner. I was sitting in the living room with my sister-in-law and two nephews, who were 6 and 3 years old at the time.

One of my nephews asked where grandma was and why is she late for dinner? “It’s rude!” My sister-in-law agreed that it was rude. She then explained that grandma will never be over for dinner because she died that morning. My other nephew asked “where is grandma?” I was curious to hear what my sister-in-law would say, because I too was wondering where my mom was. My sister-in-law explained that my mom was everywhere: in the trees, the ocean, the flowers, in the light. It sounds childish, but I clung to this idea that my mom was everywhere. I still do.

Throughout the first year without my mom, I felt my mom in the light. Whenever there was light, I began making photographs when I had this feeling. What resulted was this collection of photographs.

It’s been over two years since my mom died and I still feel her in the light. These days, however, I’ve started leaving her voice notes, like she’s on the telephone with me and I’m leaving her a voice message or we’re having a chat.