Remembering the life of my mother as my thoughts grow fonder with Schizoaffective Disorder and Bipolar Disorder


Twenty-ninth anniversary of my mom’s death to suicide. Mom did many great things in my life. She was a beautiful woman, and this is one of my favorite photos of her. She took care of me while I was sick with polio and had paralyses, and she helped me seek counseling while I was struggling with schizoaffective disorder. She was an inspiration to my painting. I like to remember her smile and sense of humor. I loved mom, missed her, and forgave all that she did to me. This February is a difficult month for me because I heard about the deaths of the students at Marjory Stoneman Douglas High School in Parkland, Florida, on Valentines Day and I’m taking a look back to mom’s death to suicide. Life is so precious and sacred. To take one’s life or another, is so hard to imagine. I have managed to keep my head above water by sticking to my easel and painting soft, soothing, meditative ocean scenes, playing my self-affirmation tapes, seeing my doctors and counselors, and fighting for a cause. My medication keeps me afloat. Missing mom isn’t easy, but each day gets better. Here is the photo of my mom’s passport when she traveled to the US in 1945 from Brazil where she was born.

My mom, Maria

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