Sandra & Kaye

These photos mean a lot to me, they’re of my sister and our grandma who raised her. We often have a vision of what a mother should be or look like, but parental figures can come in many forms. As I often photograph “Mommy and Me” sessions with mothers and their young children, I can’t help but think of those who may not have known or were not raised by their parents. Yet, there are others who step into those roles, leaving an incredible impact providing the same love as if those children are their own. There is a hollow pain in missing or longing for what could or should have been, but there’s also beauty in realizing that love was always there—through the people in our village who stepped in when it mattered most.

“It all started when I was three weeks old. My parents couldn’t care for me, and without hesitation, my Grandma took me in. From then on, she wasn’t just my grandmother; she was my “Mom” in every sense of the word. She gave me safety, love, and a place to call home. Growing up, I was surrounded by my mom and my aunties, who filled my world with love and laughter. Even when I moved to live with my dad at seven, her house remained a haven—a place that was truly mine. One memory stands out—My Mom once told me about seeing a little girl in her apartment in 1966, arms full of white sheets, who vanished before her eyes. Years later, she found a painting of Renoir’s Child in a White Dress and realized the girl looked just like me. She believed it was a vision of me before I was born. Now at 91, my Mom lives in a memory care facility. Though her memory fades, she still lights up when she sees me, introducing me with pride. She was and is my “Mom” in every way that mattered, and our bond has always felt timeless—as if it was meant to be.” -Sandra Duran