See You Sunday
My Lolo, Lola and Ninong’s home in Mississauga, Ontario is one where I spent almost every single SUNDAY of my life from birth until I moved to Montréal in 2018. It’s a place that has always been home to me and my large family. It was almost like a ritual gathering, and as blasphemous as it may sound, it was more important than church to me.
This collection of work was made between 2018 - 2022 (and is still ongoing) on a mix of 120 and 35mm film. I started it when I moved away and vowed that every time I visited I would take as many pictures as I could to document the home that meant so much to me and so many others. I didn’t have that much money so I’d often only have one roll on me or whatever frames I had left from a roll I had already begun shooting on. My only criteria was that I shoot it on a Portra film stock in order to keep the look as coherent as I possibly could.
Now I don’t know the specifics regarding the conditions that befell my Lola Zonia, but I do know that she suffered from Alzheimers and Dementia in her last years. For as long as I can remember, she always had little warning signs, from telling the same wonderful stories over and over, to being a tad bit forgetful. I don’t know if me moving away and not seeing her every SUNDAY kind of acted as a time warp of sorts, but it felt like every time I came back her mind was deteriorating more and more. I decided to shift focus and try my best to get photos of her and my Lolo.
Although I tried to bury it, a part of me felt like the end was near and taking pictures was the only way I knew how to cope.
These pictures of her in the red sweater and yellow polo were taken the last time I saw her, maybe a month before she passed in the fall of 2020. Although I was and still am devastated by her no longer being here, I’m happy that I have these pictures. I’m happy that I had this process. I’m also forever grateful that I was able to get a photo of her and my Lolo together in the most beautiful of lighting conditions, it felt like divine timing. Everything I had of them before this was underexposed and kind of silhouetted. Which I personally love, but seeing their faces lit up so vividly and warmly in their kitchen will always bring me joy.
Looking back on this series will always be a sad endeavour for me, but selfishly, it felt like the first time I found my voice as a photographer and I guess that means something.
I love you and I miss you, Lola.