Beauty

I took these pictures of my sister in December when I was up in Connecticut visiting my mom. They were for the last assignment of my photo class. Using my sister's camera, I found some beautiful light in her tiny upstairs room and took some photos of her. It was the last day of that visit. We had just woken up. She was such a trooper. She didn't even brush her hair. Or her teeth. She just sat and let me explore. The light. The space. Her face.

When I got home I showed them to BSD. His response was, "Those are not very flattering pictures of your sister." I wanted to argue, but I didn't think he'd understand. These portraits may not be flattering in a mainstream way. But I only see beauty.

I see the beauty in a woman who is not afraid to let a camera take her picture as she steps out of bed.

I see the beauty in a woman who has been going to work in the morning, 

who spends her lunch hour by our mother's side, 

who goes back to work, 

who goes home for dinner, 

and then goes back to the hospital to be with our mother in the evening. 

Every day.

Every lunch.

Every evening.

For weeks. And weeks.

I can only hope to be half as beautiful as she is.

I typed the majority of this post with one hand. Holding my mom's hand while she slept in the other. I am back in Connecticut with my mom and my sister. This past week has been a gift. As hard as it's been. As many tears as I've shed. I am grateful for these last few moments we will share. I'm not looking for sympathy. I just wanted to update you on why I've been gone.