ANGER 

At age 20, I took my mom off life support. After 5 days in the ICU due to severe stroke, we learned “if she were able to breathe on her own, she'd never open her eyes again.” Our family knew that unconscious life support isn't a life; the decision was a formality. I couldn’t help but find it unnatural as we sat around her bed waiting for her last breath.

I had plenty to be angry about. She'll never help me pick out a wedding dress, she won't get to hold her grandbabies. Mom was a beloved 4th grade teacher. Her students sent stacks of hand-written Get Well cards for her hospital room; one of them read, “You are the sugar to my tea.” My momma didn't deserve this; her sweet students didn't deserve this.

Anger was justified, but I couldn’t let it win. The mysterious allure of jellyfish tentacles that involuntarily sting anything within range while also leaving a delicate trail as they float through the ocean symbolizes controlling anger with grace and elegance in this series, Anger.