Chugrad McAndrews Photography – San Francisco Food, Advertising and Catalog Photography

When I had the good fortune to marry my wife, I also, of course, gained many new relatives. Among them was her grandmother. She was born and raised in the Andes in Peru, speaking the native language Quechua as her first language. She had 13 children, only 7 of whom lived to become adults. She has a deeply wise presence and a way about her that is rough, but unmistakably loving.

I am always fascinated by families and how certain physical and cultural traits transform with each new generation – there is always a strain of connection, sometimes more noticeable, sometimes less. Often, the same nose or eyes or lips or ears can be seen on every face in a family over 5 generations or more. I like seeing and making photos where the similarities and differences can be studied. On a cultural note, my wife’s Abuelita is fluent in her native language, my wife’s mother understands everything her mother says but can only speak about 80%, and my wife understands even less and can barely speak Quechua. Quechua is now officially on the “endangered list” of languages. They all three speak Spanish as well, although Abuelita struggles with it. My wife and her mother are also fluent in English.

I have had the opportunity on a few occasions to make some portraits of Abuelita. She has always been a very cooperative and eager subject and I plan to do little shoots with her every opportunity I get. As people get older, there is always a little uncertainty about how many future opportunities there will be to make images of them, so I often try to squeeze something in.

My Grandfather was a sweet, gentle character. He had soft, Grandpa hands and a warm, comforting smile. He was honest to the core, always had something positive to say, and put family and love above all else.

When he was a young man he gave up a potential future as a saxophone player in a Big Band to become a Lawyer. He fought in the Navy in World War II, then came back home and had a bunch more kids like many did in the Baby-Boom era – 6 kids total. He was the quintessential family man, living the American Dream.

When his wife died at age 80 he could barely see a reason to live. All his children, then adults with their own kids, gathered around him and lent him daily support to get him through this time of struggle, and continued to do so for the rest of his life. He cried every day for years remembering how much he loved his wife, but always mentioned how grateful he was for the support of his children and grandchildren.

I made photos of him over the years at various times – sometimes capturing his natural, sparkling personality, and sometimes using him as a model for an idea I wanted to pursue. One series was reflecting on the concept of loneliness and the many ways it can manifest in our lives… in his case it was deeply impactful to see him living alone in his large house where he had raised 6 children with his wife… going to bed alone, doing the dishes and laundry, doing bills and writing letters.

He lived to be 97 with virtually no physical problems until he passed peacefully in the arms of my mother.