Mam

Door AnnaElize gepubliceerd op Friday 06 May 13:29

“To see a World in a Grain of Sand
And a Heaven in a Wild Flower ”

This is an art my mother definitely understood.

While some people see butterflies as flying caterpillars, she was able to see the butterfly in the caterpillar.

She would take a tangerine, and show me how perfect it was, with fleeces so thin you could see through them, holding the parts together sturdily, but without tearing when you pulled them off. She made me aware of beauty in things I might not have noticed otherwise.

She told me how her father, who was an engineer, called the shell the most perfect architectural structure.

I loved talking to her and listening to her insights , while drinking tea from the Villeroy and Boch Botanica cups

Quality was important to her, and she prided  herself in being able to predict which writer would be the next Nobel prize winner for literature. She was almost always familiar with  their work long before they became famous.

“The mistake is in the beginning “ was a wisdom she passed on to me which helped me solve many problems. She had original ideas about just about everything.

Her sayings became my guidelines, her dilemmas my missions to solve. The pictures on the wall became my surroundings, and when I pick wild flowers and put them in a vase they remind me of the Botanica tea set,   dinner set, coffee set , basically all the pottery In my parents’ house.

What a joy it was when last summer my cousin gave me the films of her as a child, so I could see she had always been bright and delightful.

It seems that at conception, there is a bright light. You can read about that here: http://www.dailywire.com/news/5285/flash-light-occurs-moment-conception-james-barrett

I like to think that this is the moment that our spirit comes to the physical realm, after which it returns to the angel realm from where it can be with all those we love when our time here is done.

Not very long before my mother’s Alzheimer started she told me she dreamt that she was going to the land of Angels.

Her face lights up when you understand her stories. And maybe she cannot express it anymore, but look closely and you’ll see she really is still here, and listen knowingly, and you will understand her.

It hurts me that I am now far away from her. It is what she always wanted for me. From a distance I try to make life as pleasant as possible for her, and telling her story so people understand  what she is trying to say now might help them see her through my eyes, and see just how wonderful she is. So that is what I want to try.

 

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My mother as a little girl in Batavia with her parents and sisters. She is  on the left waving at the camera.

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Her beautiful smile as a young girl which has never really changed. The same smile she gave you every time she saw you, even long after she became ill.

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The van Ravenswaay painting of  a mill came from her parents and was so big it nearly covered half of the wall. We live in a watermill in France now, with surroundings not unlike those shown here.

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The botanica tea set over which we had so many talks.

 

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