Moms, Then And Now
So, yeah, Mom's Day was last Sunday. I skyped with Nancy Sherowski in the afternoon whilst drinking milky coffee. And while I didn't participate in the huge outpouring ("outposting"?) of vintage mom pics on Instagram that day, I do, it occurs to me, have a vintage photograph of my mom (above!).
Okay, so let's look at this shot. How untroubled she looks. Carefree, would you call it? And that van?! Wood paneling, paisley curtains, comfy sleep nest ... Polerstuff wishes they could hashtag this van! Also, if you look long and hard, you might detect a pale cloud of weed smoke hovering in the air? Or maybe not. We can't know. Anyway, her brother, my uncle, sitting to her left, died this year—giving this picture more than ever, to me anyway, that sad air of something bygone.
“The days aren’t discarded or collected, they are bees that burned with sweetness or maddened the sting: the struggle continues, the journeys go and come between honey and pain. No, the net of years doesn’t unweave: there is no net.” – Pablo Neruda, Still Another Day
Little me! Mexico! (I had a good smile.)