Thursday, December 7, 2006

My apartment is filled with the most lovely and lively jungle of houseplants. My siblings and I shared my mother's plants that have been her companions for many years. I also took plants home from my mother's service. Her funeral service was very beautiful, and she had hundreds of people in attendance--friends and family that I remember from the most ancient of days. Though I am sad at her passing, as of late I have felt very strong and happy knowing she is now with me in spirit and helping me from a grander perspective. For me, this is very real and rather strengthening.

I made little contribution to the funeral service that was organized by my younger sister. My little bit was the memorial program. I included a picture of my mother that I am not able (yet) to upload here, but it was taken when I was in high school, and I love the picture because not only is my mother very pretty in it (as she always was), but she is so very happy. We separated her out of a picture where my sister and I were acting silly with her and she was laughing. I want always to remember this way--with this joy, which of course is her perpetual state now.

Since I couldn't include her picture, I have shared a folky painting I did of my kids, "Interior," which I had given to my mother for her birthday in July. Sadly, she didn't have it for long. You can see the influences of Matisse in the work. And yes, you guessed it, here's a poem:

The Snow Drift

Cows watched me through the ringing snow.
I stood atop a drift as high as the house and listened.
They stared silently across the low fence. Eyes pressing
out sadness. I grew afraid of large eyes staring.
They knew something I did not know of being lonely
in the cold. I turned from that cold, did not hear it slip
past to make an inexorable place inside.