First things first, this is where I share my art. So, here’s some art.
Here’s a group of mini-paintings that I dubbed my “American Spirit” series. Each piece is the size of a cigarette box, and I mounted 144# Yupo to MDF, so each little painting is a “block”. (Sides and back are black, and each is signed on the back.)
I haven’t been creating in quite a while, until very recently. My life has been out of control, to say the least. I don’t normally post personal matters here, but for some strange reason I feel a need to, at the moment.
I lost my mom in mid-February, to stage 4 breast cancer.
She went to the ER in late November, thinking she had perhaps fractured a rib during a fall, only to find out that cancer had metastasized to her spine, brain, and liver. She had surgery a day or two later to remove a tumor that was growing out of a vertebrae and wrapped around her spinal cord. (I have never even heard of such!) As if all of this wasn’t bad enough, she developed a stroke in her spinal cord during surgery, which resulted in paralysis from T7 (just above the waist) down.
My mother was a tiny little thing who ran around at 90mph everywhere she went. She was a people person. She was a busybody. She was never content to just sit around. She loved to help and minister to people. She spent her life doing ALL THE THINGS. Then suddenly, she could do nothing. Nothing but pray.
We spent three months with my mother in two hospitals, a nursing facility, and finally, at-home hospice care. Things were further complicated by a difficult but necessary move of my parents to a location 90 miles away. I am an only child and spent as much time as humanly possible helping my parents. I did things I didn’t know I had the strength – or maybe even courage – to do.
As an added bonus, I lost my job in middle of it all! YAY! I’m not bitter. It was a blessing in disguise, as there’s no way I would have been able to do all the managing and driving and care-taking that I did, if I had a full-time job. (But as a two-income family, let’s just say things are so not ideal right now.)
Ultimately, we lost my mom. As cliché as it may sound, I know she is a better place and no longer suffering. She is at peace, and I hope that some day I will be too. I have good days and bad. I forget sometimes that I’m grieving … that it’s a process and will not just dissolve overnight, though sometimes I feel like -I- may dissolve.
But I have gained some things, too. Perspective. Insight. Even more respect and gratefulness for the wonderful family and friends I am blessed with. And spirit.
Mom, I promise, if nothing else, I will never lose that, even when I want to give up.
I will create. Because that is what I am supposed to do.
I love and miss you.
Edith Maurice Owen
October 22, 1944 – February 13, 2017