MOMMY CRUMBS

A tribute to a long, well-lived life.

Young Paula identifies with swift animals, like horses and dolphins, but especially sky-skimming birds. Grown up, she cooks sumptuous stews for her family (two small beings are pictured) and her dog, Leon. Her zest for food leaves her covered in breadcrumbs and earns her the name Mommy Crumbs. Years flow by with the turn of a page: Leon has died and is fondly remembered; Mommy Crumbs is now a grandmother. These days, her cooking is limited to snacks, but she’s still covered in crumbs, so her grandkids bring her a gift: a chick that gobbles them up. The chick quickly grows enormous, and Mommy Crumbs, folded against its wing, is “very, very old.” Sitting atop the fowl, she smilingly bids goodbye to her family, happy that she is going to achieve her lifelong dream: to fly. Now the family misses her, but every crumb they see is a reminder of the enduring presence of their beloved matriarch. Andrés and his mother, González, have written a refreshingly uplifting, understated take on loss. Translated from Spanish, their words are illuminated by brilliant, offbeat color-block, collagelike images that play blue and orange tones off each other, with a fine disregard for small accuracies (Paula has cyan hair, and though she and many characters are light-skinned, other have bluish skin).

A tender, subtle introduction to death.