My mom is in the hospital with an infection. She's the kind of person who doesn't like a fuss to be made over her. She's introverted and modest about her talents and traits. She's hilarious, often unintentionally so, and one of the smartest people I know. I'm not the only one who thinks so. Look at what one of our guests wrote on our bathroom wall:
Mom doesn't know it, though. I've spent my life trying to figure out how to convince her. I'm bossy and opinionated. But she doesn't listen to me. How did my mom, who is conflict avoidant, manage to give birth to the likes of me?
But she did and I'm grateful for it.
My latest creative obsession is Prisma. It's an app you can use to change your photos into various styles of art. One of the things I've learned from my mom is that when I'm fearful or nervous a good way to alleviate some of the anxiety is to create works of art. Since Mom has been growing frailer, my worry has grown. It makes me feel better to dabble in some creative expression. I chose an old faded photo of my mom and me when I was nearly three sitting together at the table, having a conversation after lunch. Because the photo is faded it evokes memories of the many lunches and tea parties Mom and I had when I was a kid. This faded photo is a glorious metaphor for my faded, fuzzy, lovely memories. Memories of my mom and me hanging out together as a kid. I love this photo, so I turned it into art.
You don't have to have a Prisma app or old photographs to turn something into art. All you have to do is appreciate something, to value it, to love it, to hold it inside you and want it to last. I'd argue that Mom's best work of art has been my brothers and sisters and I.
Go, tell my mom how much you appreciate her. Wish her well. Send her healing vibes. Even prayers, if you're into that whole thing. She is. She'd appreciate knowing how much she's appreciated in this world.