petition

This will be my first Mother’s Day without my mother. There will be no phone call to make or card to send, just a collage featuring a photograph of my mother, aunt and grandmother. Although my mother rarely talked about her mother and sister, I could tell she loved them very much. My aunt died in her mid-thirties, my grandmother at age fifty-five—so young . . .

This week, I was notified that the piece, Petition, was selected for an art show award. I was grateful. It felt as though others were joining me in an acknowledgement of my mother. My work had become my card, my call, to three mothers who loved each other so.