Considering I’ve lost so many memories with my previous journal going to shit, I’ve decided I’ll do some throwback updates of older photoshoots, book reviews, travels, etc. I actually had this one planned to post in my old journal before it went down.
This was back in March of 2012, I went back home to Pennsylvania to visit family while attending my grandfather’s funeral. This is my mother’s father. I wasn’t terribly close to my grandfather but I do remember the times I would visit, he’d help me set up little traps in his backyard to capture chipmunks. I’d feed them walnuts and then let them go afterward, just catching them was the challenge. Most of the time I spent there was with my cousins playing wiffle ball, catching lightening bugs, or generally getting up to no good. My grandmother would always be cooking some Hungarian dish or another; she was always cooking!
My grandfather worked the mines when he was younger and as a result contracted coal workers’ pneumoconiosis, better known as black lung which would eventually kill him. My grandmother came over to America during the war; her parents were killed, she fled, got on a boat and never saw the rest of her siblings again. It was around this time my grandfather met her. She never liked talking about her past, so it’s always been a mystery knowing exactly where she was from. She spoke eight languages and never lost her deep European accent. She always made me giggle when she said “little”, she’d always pronounce it “Lit-Lee”. She died from Merkle cell carcinoma, a very rare skin cancer associated with immunosuppression and UV exposure. She was beautiful, they both were.