At Grandma René's

A year ago I took two trips—over Thanksgiving and New Year’s—to St. Petersburg, Florida, with my partner. We were visiting his 95-year-old grandmother, René Hammond. My DSLR was in the shop after getting hit by an especially vicious wave off the Basque coast of France, so I brought along my Nikon FM2 loaded with Ektar 100 film to capture Florida in dazzling color and double exposures. Something about the juxtaposition of Christmas decorations + warm weather climates always tickles my fancy; I happily sunk into a slow dream of sun and surf. These photos are evidence of my reverie.

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How to describe René? A very special woman: a matriarch, Holocaust survivor, concentration camp escapee, speaker of five languages, gifted artist, green thumb gardener, lover of Scrabble and poker, full of spunk, mother of five and grandmother of twelve, great-gran of six and great-great of five.

My partner had once asked her why she thought she survived the Holocaust. She replied that she didn’t know—that there were people more talented or deserving of life than her who hadn’t survived—and that it wasn’t fair that God would allow six million Jews to be murdered. But because she was alive, she would keep on going as long as she could and be grateful for the time she had with family and friends.

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I rang in the new decade surrounded by the loved ones of the one I love—my partner's grandmother, mother, and siblings and partners. Days by the pool, nights at the pool table. Eating out Chinese and cooking Hungarian. My first Hanukkah, complete with classic latkes as well as absurd dreidel stunts on the dining table. Celebrating René's birthday (which, ironically, falls on Christmas!)—and somehow beating this reigning Scrabble champion at her own game. And, of course, easing into a new year on the waterfront with a Grateful Dead cover band harmonizing to the crackle of fireworks, singing about love lighting up and not fading away.

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This past May, Réne moved in with her daughter in Boone, North Carolina, to be closer to family throughout the pandemic. My partner and I spent the summer living with them, helping take care of René and savoring our time with her over breakfasts, movie nights, and of course, Scrabble games.

We were with René when she passed away peacefully at sunrise this October. There won't be any more Florida visits for a while, but I’m so grateful for these beautiful memories.

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Select images from this series are available as prints in my shop.