“Santi say Hi”
He looked up from his wheelchair and his big brown eyes met mine…
“Hi”
I thought I was done for right then and there. I mean like really thought I was going to melt into a puddle on the floor for the janitorial staff to have to deal with.
“Oh my gosh….HIIIIII!!!” I squealed as I wrapped my arms around his Mom with a celebratory hug, the enormity of his simple greeting not lost on either of us. I’ve been photographing Santi for months and never once heard his voice. Not because he doesn’t have one but because it’s been silenced…either by intubation, sedation, fear, illness, post op meds or any of the other laundry list of things these tiny humans endure. Every stage I have captured during this journey his mouth is drawn into the most perfect upside down “U”…a sad faced frown that so closely resembles the emoji that it would be sweet if it wasn’t so heartbreaking.
In every shot I have he looks weary because he is…or was. Today he wasn’t. Today he said “Hi” to me. Today his lips rested in a straight line flirting with the idea of an upturn.
He sat up in bed ripping the tissue from the gift bag I’d brought him…so much movement. I’d never seen him move this much. It was like I was seeing HIM for the first time… his personality, his mannerisms, his spirit…all the things he’d lost along the road that I’d been promising his Mom would return. It was there. He was there. Spurts of joy and silliness are slowly finding their way back…they’re subdued…hesitant…guarded…but they are there and man I can’t wait to see more.
These sessions are made possible through donor support.
Please consider making a contribution so we may continue to document Santi’s journey.