My paternal grandmother, Yolanda Rose (Helen) Divincenzo Sforza will be 97-years-old tomorrow. I don't think she knows that. I am not even sure she recognizes me anymore. And it feels like a betrayal to say that.
I wanted to shoot photos...I brought my camera...but ended up shooting with my iPhone. I was afraid.
My wife and kids and I visited "Nonna" this past weekend. She was small, frail and quiet...three things I have never associated with this power Italian-American woman born to an immigrant family in a Western Pennsylvania coal mining town. I guess that sounds like the beginning of an obituary...and I suppose it is.
I wanted to shoot photos...I brought my camera...but ended up shooting with my iPhone. I was afraid.
My grandmother's condition has deteriorated quite a bit since the last time I saw her...it was disturbing. Her voice was barely audible and I was certain she didn't have a clue who we were, at least not right away.
I wanted to shoot photos...I brought my camera...but ended up shooting with my iPhone. I was afraid.
I have spent my entire adult life as a photojournalist making difficult photos of emotionally charged scenes. It is not that it did not bother me...it just was not MY family. And I have always sought to bring as much grace and dignity to the photos as possible, because I needed to make the photo. It is my job.
I wanted to shoot photos of my grandmother...to bring dignity and grace to the photos. To bring dignity and grace to her. And for the first time in my life, I was not sure how to do it. I do not think my grandmother would mind, I have been taking pictures of her for 35 years. For now...I hope this does it...I think it does.
Rick: Nonna, è tutto buono? Sì? Fanno voi gradicono le foto?
Nonna: Si si Rick, è buono.
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