This week was Mom’s birthday. Though she’s no longer here I often feel her presence. I decided to celebrate with a quick round of “Happy Birthday to you...” and made a wish and blew out the candle as her proxy on the special day. I took this picture to share with my sister and to see how she might have marked the occasion. When I looked at the picture I was struck by the impermanence of our presence here on earth, and how many spirits may be with us, or not... the candle reflection is there, but not the shadow of the flame. Isn’t a shadow supposed to be one of life’s given? The constant threat of Covid, and the unknown seemed particularly poignant in that flame and missing shadow. It left me questioning all kinds of things like what’s real? Can you trust your eyes? Can you trust pictures? What else do we think should be a certain way and isn’t? How long will Covid last? When will I feel safe again! Will I ever feel safe again? And yet there’s an element of comfort here as well. That is that I can stand alone and burn brightly knowing she’s there, even though I can no longer “see” her. Maybe it’s the “shadow of doubt” that’s missing? Maybe it’s a sign she’s still with me? I hope all those who have lost loved ones may also see themselves burn bright without a shadow of doubt, and find comfort in the possibility they are still here and watching over us.
December 31, 2020
4/22/21 Last week's art project in Mrs. G.'s kindergarten class. I love the projects she has the kids do. Yesterday they made dandelion playdough. Each child had to pick 20 dandelions, then they put them all in a big bucket with hot water and added vegetable oil, flour, and salt. Three friends mixed it with their hands, then other friends came with scoops to distribute it. Some even came home -- in a gross little ziploc we found in our little friend's backpack, totally unidentifiable. We'd clearly missed the memo (on the Seesaw online school program).
April 24, 2021