Professor J's Place

My mother died in February of 2004. I got a full time job at my alma mater shortly after that, and I know how much she would have enjoyed being a part of that transition. One day, I was walking on campus and I came across a beautiful sight at one of the streams. I thought, "Oh, Mom would love this. I have to come back with my camera and take a picture so she can see it." I knew right away how crazy that sounded. Indeed, I refrained from going back with a camera (something I'll always regret). But that was the beginning of a thought pattern that has become familiar to me. And shortly after that, I began to take pictures for Mamma. This is actually a picture I took for her while she was alive. She loved West Texas and Big Bend national park in particular, and I knew this scene would thrill her. I guess I've been doing this all of my life--taking pictures of things that make me think of her--documenting my journeys for her. Mamma always wanted to travel in the Southwest-...

Dear Mama, Today is the fourth anniversary of your death. It was a different life for me--almost a world away--and just yesterday. This weekend at the grand opening party, I thought of you so often. You loved art and music and serving people food. Cousin Butch and his wife Susan were at the party, and they talked about you quite a bit--Butch told me about a coat you bought him fifteen or twenty years ago that he still wears. It was a thrift store treasure, and he loves it. And Susan talked about your cooking and your serving them meals back when Butch was still in law school. They both loved you. Some people at the party made a fuss over the food I put out--how nice it looked, how good it was. It was all very simple stuff. I kept thinking that you would have done it better. But I was proud. It is one of the ways I like to think that I am like you. And I am like you. Like you, I love to cook for other people, I love a good laugh, I love to read. Like you, I'll start singing at the d...