As Sinatra Sang, "I Did it My Way"; A Farewell to My Mother.

From time to time I take a minute to post not only about business, but also about what's going on in my life. Since this past weekend has been an emotional one for me, I'd like to use this space to say farewell to a woman who was not only instrumental in my career as a photographer, but also my entire life.

This past Friday, my mother - Gloria - ended an 8-year struggle with cancer at the age of 89. Surrounded by her family, she peacefully moved from this Earth into the next phase of her journey. She defied the odds by outliving numerous doctors' predictions and assessments, but in the end, her body simply wasn't strong enough to continue.

Mom was someone who enjoyed being creative. Her talents included photography, painting, and drawing; her canvases ranged from large painted pieces stretched over frames, sketches on envelopes and scraps of paper on the kitchen table, to elaborately decorating the birthday cakes of her 7 grandchildren.While she never pushed me to get into photography, when I became interested back in high school she was there to help me dig her darkroom equipment out of storage at my grandmother's house and set it up in our basement. She often provided gentle (and sometimes pointed) critiques of my work; while we all want to hear praise and positive commentary, she was straightforward with me when I needed to hear those words as well. At a point when so many people sugar-coat their words to protect another's feelings, mom was honest without being harsh. She made me realize that I need to be serious about my work and the techniques I employed. Even as a hobbyist, she took pride in the pieces she created and wanted them to be finished properly. Today, it's something I keep in mind with every portrait session.


She loved her family and took great pride in sharing their accomplishments with others. Her grandchildren were a constant source of highlights for her to discuss, from their sports and activities to their education and career paths. She rarely missed a moment to point to a large portrait on the wall near where she spent her day and "introduce" visitors to each one of them.

Her Italian heritage was also one of hospitality; she always wanted people to feel welcome when they came to visit. She loved everything sweet, from candies to desserts. It would be a rare occasion if you left and hadn't been offered some treats during your stay with her.

And she was a bit stubborn as well. Like so many of us, she knew how she liked certain things to be done or handled. She wasn't about to let a disease beat her, much less acknowledge that it was even present in her body. This past summer she attended my wedding, even though it had been a particularly difficult week for her. Offered the opportunity to stay home, she refused; she wasn't going to miss this event.

Mom, thanks for everything you did for me (and some of the things you wouldn't do); all of that helped me become the person I am today. You've left quite a legacy in this world. You will always be missed, but never be forgotten.

- David Grupa