I star in several and play a supporting role in others, alongside Esther, my foster brother, my biological brother, my grandmother, and a variety of inanimate objects that helped define who I was: an eye patch that earned me the nickname “pirate”, a baby doll dress that serves as a hat, a pair of yellow sunglasses, and a wooden dog that I pulled along with a string. It tells the who, when, and sometimes where of the picture. When I remove the back of the frame, I see the handwriting of my foster mother, Esther. I am no more than three in the pictures that are held together with tape in the frame that is almost as old as I am, 47.

These stores offered bargains, blue-light specials, and financial reprieve to struggling single mothers and down-on-their-luck families.

It is a picture frame, a hideous brownish-orange plastic, a product of the 1970s, purchased at Kmart or Zayre or some other store that went out of business decades ago. In “How we remember them”, we reflect on how we process loss and the things – tangible and intangible – that remind us of those we have lost. In the past two years of the COVID-19 pandemic, loss has been part of the lives of millions.

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