In Memoriam: Shannon

I learned this morning that my half-sister Shannon died October 26. She was 71 and died, I’m told peacefully, in hospice after years of painful bone cancer and oral chemo. I made this photograph in the late 70s or early 80s, and I photographed it this morning, as I didn’t feel like hauling down the scanner and figuring out how to use it again. I can’t remember when I last saw her, perhaps sometime in the 80s. I became persona non grata to my birth family in the 90s, and my mother told me in 1993 that she never wanted to see me or talk to me again. She never did. It was Shannon who called to tell me of our mother’s death in 2012.

Shannon loved big dogs and tiny things. She worked for a computer company designing unimaginably tiny circuits. She embroidered cross-stitch patterns so small she had to use a magnifying glass to see them. She made small, intricately detailed pencil drawings. She lived a single woman’s life in Austin, Texas with several dogs, and she fought cancer for years. 

Our family was fractured: dysfunctional at best, physically and sexually violent at worst. We were all scarred by our mother’s mental illness and their father's alcoholism. Shannon was mute for two years when she was four and five, and when she began to recover her speech, she had a stutter for years. Her dogs were her greatest comfort, and she was wonderful with them. Now her work is done. May she have rest and ease.

Extra is a studio family photo made in 1954. She's the one sitting by me in the front row. My stepfather is holding the baby, and my mother is pregnant with her fourth child.

Sadly, another dear friend died on the same day. Liuru Wang, 86, passed away peacefully in an adult foster home. Her husband, Keliang, will move to an assisted living residence now. His daughters have just been to see me and to invite me to come see him at his new home once he gets settled in.

I have turned comments back on, and I will read them. Forgive me if I don't respond right away.