A thought provoking and beautiful piece from our friend from the Instagram family. Head over to Lynn's Instagram page for beautiful art inspired by grief.
But that’s grief, isn’t it? It comes when you least expect it. When you find a video you sent to your mum, of you in a pyjama set she bought you, tucked in a bed she kissed you goodnight in, cuddling the cat you both loved so much together.
There’s a small scar above my left eye, a keepsake from the time my sister and I tried to dig our way to China. I don’t remember the exact thought process that led to this bold venture, but since I was 5 and she was 13, I’m sure our reasoning was perfectly sound. I’m also sure that living in southeastern Idaho played a role in the decision because 1) We had nothing else going on, and 2) Local authorities hadn’t yet enacted any laws against minors procuring gardening shovels, ladders, and gas lanterns, and 3) There were plenty of other kids around who were eager to help (probably because we promised them fields of free fortune cookies upon job completion).
I see a girl who got through a difficult year of her life. It was nothing like the worst, but it was nothing like the easiest. I see a girl who has been hurt, who has healed, and who looks to the future with bright eyes. I see a girl who is not perfect, who makes a plethora of mistakes, who has a library of stories and someone who keeps on trying, no matter what.
I would like my next project to be lavender with bees buzzing around it. I will look at it and remember my mum cross-stitching her hair rocking chair by the fire, and how she would look over her glasses at me. I will look at it and remember how she bought a magnifying lamp for her cross-stitch and how Katie and I would laugh at her peering into it.
We never had any Big Talks. But over those three months we slowly rediscovered each other. Nothing magical (unless you count being able to laugh together again magical). Just us.
~ I hope I can bring you a small moment of peace as well ~ A video I spent way too long working on.
House plants are a joy to have in your room or in your home. They don't ask for anything in return. They look after you, when you look after them. Taking time out of your day to peacefully prune back your plants, taking the time to water them, and gently read about them is quite meditative for me.
She’s tidying up now, preparing to leave. I don’t know if I should stop her. Or warn her. But there’s nothing to be done. Things will play out as they always have, for everything happens for a reason, they will say.
I do not see myself as a problem. I do not need to be fixed. I think I am a puzzle piece that ended up in a bag of mixed up puzzle pieces, who are simply trying to work out what the riot of reds, a sweep of blues, and garish purples amount to. It's a hard job for anyone to do, really.