What isn’t there

I spent the last couple of days in Boston with my mother. My mother has had a series of strokes that have left her both physically and mentally diminished.

 

My mother chose her apartment for the views.

I’m not sure how much of those views she actually takes in these days.

While I was there I was struck by the quality of the  winter light.

While my mother is usually pretty well oriented, at one point she asked me in Hebrew whose apartment she was in and who was paying the rent.  I told her that it was her apartment and that she was paying the rent. She was surprised that she lived in such a large apartment.

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I keep taking pictures of my mother’s things on her window sill. These objects collected over the years, some purchased by my parents, others gifts to them  are as much a portrait of my mother as an actual image of my mother.

 

 

I am so looking forward to Shabbat with my family. one of our guests is a college friend who I don’t think I have seen since the 1980’s. Both of us have had stressful weeks. I imagine that there will be lots of laughing around the dinner table.