I am drawing caricatures outside of The Fort Conde Inn in the historic part of Mobile. I am situated outside of the Inn on a street corner for a corporate client for an event.
If you know that Inn and that area of the city, you know that it’s a really lovely spot, set up like the French quarter of New Orleans with cobblestone streets and wrought iron bistro table and chairs. It's a little like being in the Old World.
I am set up with my easel under a tree on the street corner.
I’m not very busy yet, but when it’s a lovely day like this I don’t mind so much. I can sit and daydream and enjoy people watching. Which is of course a major reason I became a caricature artist in the first place. People watching is my favorite sport.
Eventually it picks up a bit and I’m drawing ladies in summer dresses - in October! - this is Mobile After all. Any more south and you'd be in the gulf. The ladies wear and “fascinators” - funny little hats that look like they belong in a 1940s movie. I don’t know why Mobilian ladies wear these but they seem to be a big thing here.
One lady with a fascinator like a bird of paradise sits in my chair and as I’m drawing her I make chitchat, as I usually do, and I ask her what she does for a living
She looks uncomfortable and hesitates for a fraction of a second longer than normal and then says “I’m a nurse in a hospice.”
Well. I can see why she’s uncomfortable talking about it. That would normally be a complete conversation killer.
But not for me. Not today.
I used to work in nursing homes. I'm always looking for common ground with people, to get them to talk about themselves, because I'm not very good at conversation. Believe it or not I'm a bit of an introvert.
“Wow. I have to tell you, my mom passed away just last February, and we had her on home hospice, and they were just wonderful. It made me wish I worked in hospice. You must be a very caring person.”
Her face breaks into a smile like a flower budding and I quickly capture that smile in my drawing of her.
Her face changes quickly though.
“So what happened to your mom?” She asks.
“Oh.” I swallow. This story is so fresh, so raw still, that I haven’t told it yet. Not to anyone.
I’m not really sure where to begin.
I decide to gloss it over. “She had dementia for a very long time.,” I say. “She suddenly went downhill toward the end. She’d been with us in a restaurant eating and talking just a couple of weeks before she passed.”
The lady from the hospice’s face registers surprise. “That IS fast. I’m so sorry.”
I’m tearing up a little bit. I look around behind me. Thankfully there’s no line to get a caricature. Which means I have a few minutes more to connect with this lady.
She clarifies, “I mean I’m sorry for your loss and I’m also sorry for bringing it up.”
“Its ok.” I whisper, trying to regain my voice, but the ache in my chest is back. damn.
“I know where she is,” I manage. There's so much more to say but I don't have the words. AS an afterthought I add, “My brother was holding her hand when she died.”
“Your brother?”
“Yes. His name is Matt. They were very close. In fact he was her main caretaker.”
Again surprise. “That’s very rare. It’s almost always women who are the caretakers. He must be a special guy.” If only she knew. Matt had given up his entire life to take care of my mom.
“They told me at the hospital it was rare what we did too. My sister came from Tulsa and my other brother came all the way from Pennsylvania and we took shifts staying with her at the hospital for over A week.
Mom was a musician so we hunted down all her favorite music and played it for her night and day until they sent her home. We even sang hymns for her right there in the hospital hospice. ”
This lady is looking at me funny.
I don’t know why I feel safe enough to tell her this but I lean in and say :
“We had the blessing of having her back with us for one day before she went comatose.
It was the day my brother Jon got there from Pennsylvania.
He leaned over to kiss her and I said “Mom, this is Jon. He’s changed so much hasn’t he?”
I was trying to clue her in on who he was. She hadn't seen him in a decade.
She hadn’t quite lost the power of speech yet, and she said softly &
Haltingly “He’s a grown man.”
The lady I was talking to took in a breath sharply as I talked.
I was finished the drawing. But that didn’t matter.
I continued. “She even knew my dad when he came to see her that night. He was terrified of hospitals but I told him to come, that she knew my brother Jon, maybe she'd know him.
And so he came.
And she remembered him. She had forgotten for years and would insist they weren't married. But she remembered him.
Dad asked if she knew who he was and she said “my husband.” I was there. I heard it.”
The lady was looking at me with astonishment.
“ I’ve heard of things like that happening,” she said quietly, “but I never knew anyone it actually happened to.”
She is CRYING. Oh my God. And now here I am, supposed to be working, and I’m crying too.
“Thank you, “ she says “thank you for sharing that with me.”
And now I am doing something I don’t normally do. I lean over and give her a hug.
“Thank you,” I whisper, and wipe some tears into my shoulder.
I’m thankful no one has found me yet to get drawn.
We pull away after a few tears and We laugh a little at the awkwardness.
Finally, I laugh and say “You wanna see your picture?”
She laughs and nods.
I turn it around.
“Oh that’s lovely,” she says, and I can tell she means it.
“Thank you so much. and I’m sorry I brought up such a painful subject for you.” She gets up to leave.
“It’s ok.” I say. “ but I want to tell you one more thing .”
She waits.
“When my mom died, my brother said he could feel the presence of angels with him in the room. That's what I meant when I said I know where she is.”
She straightens and nods. “I’m not surprised,” she says.
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I got her picture before she left
I think her name was Lisa.
If anyone knows her please get us in touch.
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So I wrote this today because I was missing my mom. It was painful, dredging up these memories. But I was finally able to tell the story. It's been nearly a year.
If you’re missing a loved one, one special thing that I do is I draw
“memorial caricatures”.
I started out wanting to tell my mom's story, but then I realized this might help someone. If you don’t have anything from your loved one but some blurry old photos, I can help you.
I will make an exception to the "I dont do commisisons" rule if you mention this post and I will do one for you. It may take a while - sometimes im very busy at live events - please be patient.
I promise I will do my best to do your loved one justice.
This time of year can be really hard if you’ve lost someone. A lot of people find comfort in these drawings and it’s part of my ministry.
Sometimes it helps to just know someone else understands.
Just an FYI:
In addition to losing my mom last year, I also was widowed young at age 41.
My late husband, Buddy Rose the caricature artist and founder of the NCN (national caricaturist network) had pancreatic cancer and I was his caregiver. So I understand that grief too.
I’m happily remarried now but I still miss him.
I see him a lot in our two sons who are teenagers now and almost grown up.
Anyway. If you’d like a memorial drawing they’re $99 per person or pet. Yes I do pets memorials too.
That doesn’t include frames or shipping. I can mail them to you in a tube or if you’re near lower alabama you can pick yours up.
Just email me and we’ll chat about it.
Blessings. I hope this story touched you. ❤️
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thanks and have a blessed day
Very nice
It's so nice