Tuesday, June 4, 2013

The gift of insight

It's not any particularly unique bereavement experience here but I'm constantly learning of things I wish I knew when my mother was alive.  She  passed away in 2011 and since then I've been receiving wonderful gifts from friends and family in the form of knowing her in ways I didn't as her child.

She was a sculptor.  I didn't know this.  You might laugh or be shocked to hear that but if you knew her you'd know how humble she was about her own artistic talent.  Her father was a sculptor, for a living he taught and sold art.  However she was a social worker who had always sworn to me that she had no artistic talent what so ever... even though I'd always envied (and tried to emulate) her abstract doodles she'd draw while on the phone (you know, back when phones used to be corded affairs that kept you chained to the wall).   ANYHOW,  I know I tried to convince her otherwise at times but I wish I'd had better ammo such as this.  Artists can be too hard on themselves and she certainly was.

So with little more commentary or fanfare, I'd just like to share with you something that arrived in the mail yesterday tha mom made around 35 years ago as a wedding gift for friends.  I didn't even know she dabbled in stone carving but I feel like I should've known.  Since I was out of diapers by then if I could stretch my memory maybe I could even remember her actually sculpting this.  Anyhow, the friend who gave me this gave me more than just a work of art. Thank you Emmitt.  You can't know what this means to me.

1 comment:

pamiam said...

How beautiful, poignant and true, Morgen. What a gift! People who we knew and have gone on are splinters of memories of those who knew them. Or thought they did. All reflections through a prism.