The first big step through the tunnel occurred today. Three wonderful tributes were presented. I've included mine here so you all can read just some of the bits of her life's fabric.
As a preschooler, Mom and I would sing a lot. She would read poetry to me. We both enjoyed RL Stevenson’s ‘Land of Counterpane’ and I loved William Henry Drummond’s ‘Leetle Bateese’ written in dialect. She read poetry and understood the need to do this out loud. On reflection, this early appreciation of poetry may have been the foundation of the research and writing I do now that deal so much in metaphor.
Mom used her artistic skills to sew and tailor clothes for the family. Some beautiful outfits came from that. She did needlepoint – two of which hang in my bedroom now and an early embroidery sampler hung in my childhood bedroom.
Many family members have received birth quilts from Auntie Em – each a unique work of art. Her final quilting endeavors involved intricate pieced quilt designs that were amazingly beautiful.
She loved to travel and with dad they kept the film developers in business with gorgeous, evocative and always moving photos of nature and family gatherings.
Mom developed a professional career at a time when women were more often at home working. She worked on the executive of her professional association and made major contributions to the local profession in labs in Moose Jaw.
She showed strength, though I feel she may not have always felt strong, making a life of her own after Dad passed.
Family was the centre of her life – not just with Mom, Dad, Ed and I, but also the many branches of the larger family trees.
I’ll miss her caring gestures – she always did shopping for my cats. I received many cards and small gifts from Bali and Sheaumais over the years. I thank her for passing along to me her love of books, travel, music, knowledge and poetry; for being a strong professional female role model; and for showing me the anchor that family can be in life.
Recently I’ve been reminded of the words of songwriter Carole King that say – ‘My tapestry’s unraveling – he’s come to take me back.’ It seemed a fitting metaphor for Mom, a woman of faith who worked in the fabric arts.I did use Tapestry in an earlier blog written at the beginning of this long journey. The song that came to mind today notes how we can feel broken and deal with the fallout alone, when in fact there are others who share the pain. Today that became so clear as I met people I knew only by name from Mom's conversations as well as all the family and close friends who joined us today to say farewell.
The lyrics of this song remind me of the quote from Liam Neesan, "Everyone says love hurts, but that is not true. Loneliness hurts. Rejection hurts. Losing someone hurts. Envy hurts. Everyone gets these things confused with love, but in reality love is the only thing in this world that covers up all pain and makes someone feel wonderful again. Love is the only thing in this world that does not hurt. " That is what happened this afternoon. Love. So, while Brian May sings of the pain of love, it is the loss that is at the crux of that pain, not the love. My challenge is to hold onto the love of others when the grief overtakes me.
Too much Love with Kill You -- Brian May
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