Oum of Oumi: The mother of my mother, grandma. Seen above, you can imagine a beautifully coated skeleton of wisdom resting for a moment before dinner is served. Look closer, let her aging flesh and knowing eyes, lead you down a path of of remembrance. There is a saying in Morocco, a grandmother carries a village on her back.
I met this grandmother maybe a month into my stay in Morocco and already I had seen her cook, clean, and keep everything together. Age cannot measure energy. I love you Oum of Oumi, blessed be your soul and the those of which you created.