Kindness

 

Do we know the stories people hold within or between each other? 

 

My parents were hardworking, kind to each other but I never thought of them as being 'in love'. 

 

Working on this painting I felt the tenderness between them, the love and caring my mom felt for my dad. The heartbreak, the emptiness my mom must have felt when her beloved died. Love letters we found under her pillow when cleaning out her apartment, burned they are resting with their ashes.

 

I did not know the stories even my parents were holding between each other. It was not my place to know. Everyone holds a story, kindness is what we can offer to cradle our stories with.

 

Time is slipping as do memories and our minds.

When I saw my mom at Christmas, I was shocked how hard she was breathing, how slow she was walking, not the woman I remember from the summer before, from the years before. 

 

Time is slipping.

 

When she died, so many firsts...

The first time I saw her lying without breath

So many lasts...

touching her body for the last time, letting her physical presents go

leaving her apartment,

empty,

for the last time.

 

Grieving-  noticing even the smallest act of kindness, 

the heart is open

every little act of kindness made me cry.

 

Are All Eggs coming Out of One Basket?

Have been thinking about connection to family members in the last little while, since I am preparing to travel to my country of birth.

Is blood thicker then water?

My family in Germany has been missing milestones I have achieved here in Canada.
Where have we lost the connection, or did we ever have one?
Connection is created through memories.
I am a product of my experiences and memories.
My experiences and memories with my family are limited to the time I have spent with them.

What is family?
The definition of family is, a basic social unit consisting of parents and their children, considered as a group, whether dwelling together or not. Nothing speaks of love, and support.

I have been exploring through some of my artwork a connection to my parents. When thinking of my parents, I see two people who suffer. A reflection, is this what family will do, reflect. Reflect the mortality, the fear that it provokes in me. The questions about my life. Am I living life to it's fullest or am I holding back and are waiting... waiting, for what? To make up my mind to enjoy life? I am scared I am missing the boat of life. 
Why?
Have I moved myself into the future or am I stuck in the past and are forgetting to smell the roses?