The Oakville Pietà

Last Thursday, Cate and I did a suburban Value Village run. Enroute, we talked about our children. Seasoned thrifters, we arrive then separate. I head over to men’s suiting where a mother and son are shopping. He’s more young man than boy, and dark like Dan. His mother, further up the rack, wore a hijab. A hunt for a graduation suit. I culled my way to the lady.

“Mama?” Kind, sweet, slightly anxious. A voice like my son. She and I turned towards him at the same time. Twin Pavlovian responses. And right there, I cried for a thousand mothers.

Inspired by Gaza, Kyiv, San’an, Tehran, Tel Aviv, Los Angeles. 

Vintage find from LimArtSculpture.