“Now there is one thing I can tell you: you will enjoy certain pleasures you would not fathom now. When you still had your mother you often thought of the days when you would have her no longer. Now you will often think of days past when you had her. When you are used to this horrible thing that they will forever be cast into the past, then you will gently feel her revive, returning to take her place, her entire place, beside you. At the present time, this is not yet possible. Let yourself be inert, wait till the incomprehensible power. . .that has broken you restores you a little, I say a little, for henceforth you will always keep something broken about you. Tell yourself this, too, for it is a kind of pleasure to know that you will never love less, that you will never be consoled, that you will constantly remember more and more.” ~ Marcel Proust
I’ve been away from the blog for a long time, taking care of my mother. Earlier this month she died peacefully, surrounded by love. Perfectly imperfect and deeply loved, she is already fiercely missed. I am grateful I was able to be completely present to her, honored to be a guide as she completed her final journey on this earth. Cathartic, poignant and bittersweet for both of us.
My mother read DAM faithfully. Over the last several months she often asked when I was going to post on DAM again. Every now and then I found the time for a post and it was sweet to watch her face light up when she really liked the art. . .I will miss that. . .and so much more.
I was working on the September issue of MAM when she died. . .then couldn’t bring myself to finish it. Somehow finishing it made this more real. Irrational? Yes. But that’s how I felt. I’m back home now, working on finding a new normal, finally finishing up the September issue of MAM, getting ready to begin work on the October issue and thinking about new posts for DAM.
Thank you for standing by patiently until I returned. Heartfelt apologies to MAM subscribers for the long delay this month. The September issue will be in your inboxes soon. I can hear my mom say “What are you waiting for?” Don’t worry mom – I’m on it.
There will always be something broken about me now and that’s ok – it is a reminder that I will never love less, that I will never be consoled, that I will constantly remember more and more.