One of the things about being an artist and writer - for me anyway - is the need to share my feelings, thoughts, fears, and hopes. There is an internal quest it seems to capture one moment's essence, or a string of moments, so I can say,
"Look, isn't this beautiful, do you understand me?"
I spend my early evenings on the porch sharing wine with Martyn, talking about plans, or failures, new animals, and now memories of my mother or long ago family vacations. Sometimes there is music on, but more often there is not - instead I just listen to the fields and farm, an occasional truck miles away and sounds of Martyn making dinner. Cats come and go, and always, there is my view of Huck looking out on the front garden. This is one of the ways I'll always remember him and have taken this same photo so many times over the past 9 years.
I read another author's blog post yesterday about his thoughts on losing a good friend and he said there was no need to be sad about his death but instead he was going to spend the day celebrating the person's life - each time he thought of this person that day, he smiled. I am not opposed to that, and I'm sure his friend would want his living companions to carry on with life not mired in sadness about his passing. Everyone gets to grieve in their own way, dance their own beat, but, it kind of made me....irritated. I'm not sure why. Maybe I was being over analytical, it was not as if this person reached out just to me to say,
"Come on, there is nothing to be sad about with your mother's death."
But that's what it felt like. Words on the screen can do that. Words have power, or can be given power when one least means to give them power. I suppose my words have affected somebody in an irritable way without meaning to. I smile a lot all day, I laugh a lot, I am not weeping in the bushes. But I miss my mother's human presence and I am saddened by her death. I celebrate her life simply by breathing, but I am saddened by her death. I am not smiling at her memory right now - I miss her.
