Appreciating two mothers this Mother’s Day. One here. One gone.

Most days, our appetites serve us well. When we are hungry, we eat (if we can). When full, there's a signal to stop. In this image, the two mothers most important to me are communicating silently. My own mother's posture speaks of resignation. Her head in her simply adorned hand. The other hand rests on her tray, acknowledging its presence while signaling indifference. The bands identify her as "the one cared-for". The white towel protects the modest dignity of her gown. Her hair holds its coif. 

My wife (the other mother) looks on, patiently ready to offer whatever my mother may need. The signals are subtle, but another mother would recognize them. For this brief moment, nothing more is needed. 

Eating has been perilous in the preceding days, and hope has been fading. The simple food before her will not address the longing that will be satisfied at home in a few days. The longing is for her final home. Where all our needs are met, whether tired or hungry.