On this day, a few years ago, I recall a certain pull. It wasn’t a tug – much less a push.
I understood, confused as I was, that certain things will come to pass – while others cannot be avoided.
Today I am grateful for all that I am, was and will become. Grateful to be embraced by loved ones, to have loved those who came before us and those that are yet to arrive.
I eat, have shelter, water and sun. The air, our earth, the birds flying high. The oceans majestic, the stars in the sky. That magnetic moon, it’s gravity unavoidable. The green of the grass, the trees shading all- and that sky, Oh, that sky- such astounding hues!
I know, it seems simple- but that is all. Nothing else matters as much as these-
There’s nothing much better than the simplest things.
Wishing everyone a very happy, safe Thanksgiving. Mostly, that we all recall to be Grateful for all of the simplest things.
Hello dearest friends, family and followers!
I’m here today to touch base with everyone since I’ve been busy with many things.
As always, Art is a practice I continue and quite honestly feel ill without. In between the seemingly endless responsibilities, I try to at least sketch ~ anything! It keeps me going, focused and sane.
Recently, I read a newsletter which provokes the very heart of anyone into being stirred. In essence, it is a subject most anyone can relate to- that of loss, grieving and going through the stages that eventually allow us to find peace. I won’t refer to it for privacy of the writer and wish it serves as comfort through this difficult time. In this writing, I don’t intend for it to overpower that eloquent writer’s story of discovery. Nor do I wish it to be a somber excerpt of the correspondence I subscribe to, but a view of my own on the subject. I would hope that in the least, it extends warm thoughts and peace to those who understand and need it.
When I was a very young girl, I experienced the first loss in one I loved so dearly, my maternal Grandmother, Zoila. To me she represented as much as my Mom if not more for so many additional reasons we find in loving grandparents. They seem to have that much more when anxious thrill is felt at the thought of seeing them, hugging, talking or merely playing. I particularly loved exploring her facial features, looking into her eyes as she admiringly smiled back with them. They were beautiful, light brown eyes with a twinkle I’d hope to never forget. Her cheeks were full and rounded out more in her big warm smiles. That’s how I gave her a nickname: “carita de manzana” – (little apple face). Oh how I loved to smoosh her face between my hands and gently yank on those cheeks! I guess she appeared as a doll to me, since she was a jolly playtime pal to us all. What’s funny is, each of us (all eight) of her grandchildren, thought somehow that our grandma was all ours- exclusively ours! I mean, I thought I was her favorite and so did all my siblings. Nowadays we’ll still recall moments to try proving that to each other and it’s splendid to know she had infinite love for everyone. Enough love, you ask? No. Love is never enough unless it is both given and received. Grandma had more than enough. This is where the word essence comes into play. Read on…