Kate’s first caregiver, Ms. Gladys, (blog mentions of her are here) retired last week. I used to hang out with Gladys when Kate was a baby. Usually it was to nurse (since Kate was adverse to the bottle and I am adverse to the pump) but sometimes when I’d go in for that afternoon feeding, it was hard to leave. I’d help out around the room, giving a bottle, changing a diaper, or rocking someone to sleep. The perk was that it meant I got to talk to Gladys. Gladys can tell it straight, but has a way of gently leading you to the answer so that you come to it in your own time. She is such a wonderful listener that it is easy to get carried away and babble on and on to her soft affirmations. Eventually, it got easier to ask her questions. This was how I learned about her daughter, Ardis, who died shortly before the Flood came and engulfed their home, taking with it most of their physical memories.
Abeona threw a big surprise retirement party for her last Saturday, with people there representing her 27 years of service. We helped a friend put together a book, scanning pictures and sending photographs from Abeona’s first three years. She did a fantastic job on the book, which included photos, stories from families, scanned art projects, and memories reflecting many years of work. But I wanted to do something else and asked for help from staff to make it happen.
As I understand, it took some serious work to get this photograph scanned — the last one taken of Ardis.Â
As usual, I forgot about taking photographs of the process until I was well into the piece.
This was my toughest portrait to date, mostly because I was so very nervous to do it. It felt very personal and, in a way, invasive to be doing this as a surprise. She hadn’t asked me to do this because she felt I could do the job correctly — it was something I was just doing. What if there was something I missed?
This is the only finished photograph I have — I didn’t take any of it in it’s frame.
Even now, I’m at a loss of what to say about it.
This is Ardis. She was a beautiful, smart young woman born to an amazing, compassionate woman. It was a pleasure to draw her.
Laura | 28-Jul-09 at 7:10 am | Permalink
I love it, Holly. Love it, love it, LOVE IT. I met Miss Gladys, immediately knew she was a treasure to have at Abeona and I am sure she loves the portrait of her daughter.
onthecurb | 28-Jul-09 at 10:15 am | Permalink
Oh, now I’m all leaky-eyed. I love her expression when she first realizes what’s in the box. Beautiful work. And, what a great gift.
Melanie | 28-Jul-09 at 1:11 pm | Permalink
Aww that brought tears to my eyes. What a wonderful idea.
de | 28-Jul-09 at 2:00 pm | Permalink
Holly, what you did is just stunning – both the sentiment behind it and the portrait itself.
Miss Gladys sounds wonderful, and I’m glad you were able to honor her with something so personal and touching.
Emmy | 28-Jul-09 at 2:02 pm | Permalink
I am SO glad you captured that moment on video! It was my favorite moment of the whole party–she just kept looking at it, speechless. I think it meant more to her than any of it.
Thank you.
Painted Maypole | 28-Jul-09 at 7:15 pm | Permalink
what a gift
Tina | 29-Jul-09 at 7:19 pm | Permalink
This is beautiful Holly. Made me cry like a baby too….
A | 30-Jul-09 at 2:04 pm | Permalink
Your portrait is beautiful–what a gift! I’m curious, after reading your posts about Ms. Gladys. Do you happen to have any pictures of her, or know where she taught pre-Katrina? Emmeline’s first teacher at Uptown Learning Center was a Ms. Gladys, and she was the most wonderful woman. I grieved when she didn’t come back there after Katrina, and I’ve always wanted to tell her how great she was. It’s probably just a coincidence, but your Ms. Gladys sure does sound a lot like mine!