The clock on my computer just shifted to the ninth of August. I can’t help it, but I watch the calendar in August and brace myself for this day every year. I ride the wave to the second of September and heave a sigh on the third. I think of this time as my own personal in-between time. It marks the days between a heart attack that sent my mother into a coma and her passing from this life.
That happened in 1990. And you would think after all that time I wouldn’t flinch when August rolled around. These days I find the in-between time is easier and more productive. But I am just that kind of person these days, a glass half full person, a person who looks for the ray of light.
That wasn’t always the story. I feel like my development into a young woman was pretty rocky. I had my feet swept out from under me. The journey to stand again took awhile. Standing here 22 years later, I like the view. Sure my rough start is sometimes hard to look back on, but it made me who I am. And I honest can say today that I think my mother would be extraordinarily proud of me. I am proud of me.
From this view point, I see where I am going as well. A lot of the journey I am planning for myself has been formed out of my relationship with her. She was the first artist I ever knew, the one who first allowed me the freedom to create, and she was my biggest fan when I was sharing my gifts with the world.
I know that she wanted to be a good mother and I hope she knows by the way her children turned out that she was…and from my view still is! A day doesn’t go by that I don’t learn something because she chose to be a force of loving in my life.
And so the in-between time begins.