Mysteries of Her Own

ESTHER Georgia O'Keefe-ish

I'm gradually going through the contents of The Trunk of Pain in the garage, a task I've been postponing for decades. (And let me tell you, it takes fortitude!) Monte found me sitting there sobbing the other morning, having come upon a trove of letters from my beloved brother Eddie that rendered both his struggles and his sweetness very real indeed.

But occasionally it has yielded reminders of happier moments: a ticket stub from Man of La Mancha, 1967; an amazingly detailed drawing of a wizard at work by my "little" brother Eric when he really was little: funny and poignant letters from old friends during our high school and college years.  

But one of my favorite treasures so far has been this mysterious photo of my mother. Boots, beads, book. A chair in a desert? She seems so autonomous somehow. I'd never seen this picture before and have no idea where it was taken. So many stories I'll never know.