About Raindrops
If it seems I've been obsessed with raindrops the past couple of years, there's a reason, and I've never discussed why online. Until now, it wasn't really my story to tell.
My mom moved in with us three years ago. She had mobility issues, and her second-floor walk-up condo in Florida didn't fit her needs any more, so we moved her in with us back in New Jersey, in the house that she and my dad bought in 1978, which my wife and I bought from them in 2003.
She was housebound from the start, but could maneuver inside the house. I was her caregiver, but it wasn't that onerous, basically making her dinner and fetching things occasionally.
But over time, her latitude shrank. First to go was sitting at the kitchen table for dinner. She could still go to the kitchen and make herself lunch with whatever food was available on the refrigerator door (not so much in the rest of the fridge), but consumed all her meals in the lift chair she used in the family room. And with the passage of time, her walking with her walker slowed down and got more precarious. With every decrease in her capabilities, there was an increase in my need to provide her with help and to stay close to home.
In late October, she went into the hospital to deal with an infection that was discovered by some bloodwork the visiting nurse who treated her asked for. She came out in early November with a cancer diagnosis. Things started to decline faster from that point, and in January she entered hospice care.
She passed away on February 26, 2025, with her two living children by her side.
It has been difficult for me to get out of the house and go down the shore the way I used to as my mom's condition declined. The series of shots of raindrops started as a way to keep shooting something while not leaving my property, stealing 15 minutes or so to run off an entire roll of film after a rainstorm. And the worse her condition got, the more important it was for me to stay home or close to home, and my ability to travel shrank to pretty much nothing. But I could still steal 15 minutes and shoot some raindrops occasionally.
This project has been so closely tied to my caregiving responsibilities and my mom's condition, and now that she's gone, much of my constraints have disappeared (I still have caregiving responsibilities for another family member, but they're less imposing right now). I love the work, and expect to return to it, but not right now. It's still a bit raw, a bit too connected to a difficult time in my life. Thanks to everyone, especially my friends on the social network Glass, for your encouragement with these photos. It's been a way to maintain a bit of my sanity as the rest of my world kind of closed down.
Posted at 12:21 PM
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