On my last post, I spoke candidly about taking a break and re-charging, re-upping etc. and in the days since then I have been doggedly photographing as many items as I could in order to have abundant material to continue this archive, and to be able to keep an open dialogue about the process that I am going through. About what it means to have all this "stuff" and how to deal with it. That has been a major arc in this project, that, and the fact that I wanted to create a tome that would carry my mothers memory into my daughter's consciousness.  

Tonight I hit an unexpected bump in the road. Up until now, I have been for the most part, dealing with all the "good stuff" the things that made their way into my home either long before or right after my moms passing. On this trip however, I have been confronted by a much larger cannon.  All that was left behind.  Either because I felt it was too much too deal with at the time, or not important enough.  Well here's something interesting that happens when you go back to a dearly loved deceased parents house and make it a marathon to have yourself photographed in as many of their things as humanly possible for posterity- you will eventually lose your mind. It can come in a few different ways, when you realize that there is no way you can keep it all, and your heart breaks because now you have to part with the beautiful dress she wore to your wedding that will never fit you, or the fact that you finally have to unpack that suitcase she took to the hospital for the last time, and see the hopefulness in its contents, that she did not pack for the end, that she thought she was coming home. And how you so desperately wish she had.

How the clothes in her house still smell like her, and how being home without her will never feel like home again, now that she is not here.  At the moment, I feel no joy in these clothes, I feel like I want to curl up inside them and will her back. I miss her with every cell of my body, and I am so angry she left me with this load. I know I am just tired, and I hope tommorow I will feel a different way, but tonight, I feel like I am in the first days of mourning again.  How did I get back to this?

Mom, if you are near please send me a sign. Please help me figure out what to do with all of this. Please tell me you love me know matter what I decide. Please let me feel your love one more time. Tonight I am not the strong mom, or wife or daughter.  I am your sad little girl, and I miss you and need you. 









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