It's Solstice mom...
As a child I had very little insight as to why my mother would tearfully watch as the days grew shorter each fall. As a child I looked ahead to all things winter with my heart forever in the present. Her words of excitement when the days started to get longer again I dismissed as "silly mother stuff'.
Looking now through the eyes of an adult I realize my mother most likely suffered from SADD before there was such a thing. She loved to have her hands in the soil. She was part of every plant she ever planted. She made roses thrive and iris grow incredibly tall. She was engaged in a silent dance of celebration with the earth. I have her to thank for all those summer mornings I awoke to the sound of the mower and the smell a fresh cut grass. I have her to thank for my love of gardening and my craving for the smell of warm peat moss. I have her to thank for the desire to dance a silent dance.
My mother was diagnosed with terminal lung cancer in the spring of'94. The first words out of her mouth were "I want to live to seeanother spring". The Dr. kindly touched her shoulder and gave herone more spring. I know that he didn't mean it. But he'll never know the joy that brought to my mom. The joy of one more spring.The joy of one more dance. And dance she did. She bought me several flats of petunias that year and sat in a chairand watched as I planted them. And we talked of the spring, of life,of beauty. As summer waned she began to lose strength. Almost asif her body was solar powered. Again she looked to Solstice and called me that day to proclaim the return of daylight. Each day my mother inched her way toward her spring defying Dr.s expectations of her. We had another lovely spring and summer. Although the sun didn't seem to energize her body like it did before I could tell her soul still danced in the sunlight. I lost her that year but only after the days started getting shorter. Her least favorite time of year.
I fell into despair and darkness. Darkness of my soul and darkness of the season. Although I didn't realize it at the time I began yearning for the daylight. For warmth and renewal. For the dance. When the calendar revealed its darkest day my heart leaped with joy. The sun was returning! Life was returning! It was then I realized my mother had left behind as a gift to me her love of the sun and the steps to the dance.I woke up this morning with a lighter heart and a secret excitement. I peeked outside at my sleeping garden. It would soon know what I knew. In quiet reflection I heard myself proclaim, "The sun is coming! It's Solstice again mom...it is time to dance"
Looking now through the eyes of an adult I realize my mother most likely suffered from SADD before there was such a thing. She loved to have her hands in the soil. She was part of every plant she ever planted. She made roses thrive and iris grow incredibly tall. She was engaged in a silent dance of celebration with the earth. I have her to thank for all those summer mornings I awoke to the sound of the mower and the smell a fresh cut grass. I have her to thank for my love of gardening and my craving for the smell of warm peat moss. I have her to thank for the desire to dance a silent dance.
My mother was diagnosed with terminal lung cancer in the spring of'94. The first words out of her mouth were "I want to live to seeanother spring". The Dr. kindly touched her shoulder and gave herone more spring. I know that he didn't mean it. But he'll never know the joy that brought to my mom. The joy of one more spring.The joy of one more dance. And dance she did. She bought me several flats of petunias that year and sat in a chairand watched as I planted them. And we talked of the spring, of life,of beauty. As summer waned she began to lose strength. Almost asif her body was solar powered. Again she looked to Solstice and called me that day to proclaim the return of daylight. Each day my mother inched her way toward her spring defying Dr.s expectations of her. We had another lovely spring and summer. Although the sun didn't seem to energize her body like it did before I could tell her soul still danced in the sunlight. I lost her that year but only after the days started getting shorter. Her least favorite time of year.
I fell into despair and darkness. Darkness of my soul and darkness of the season. Although I didn't realize it at the time I began yearning for the daylight. For warmth and renewal. For the dance. When the calendar revealed its darkest day my heart leaped with joy. The sun was returning! Life was returning! It was then I realized my mother had left behind as a gift to me her love of the sun and the steps to the dance.I woke up this morning with a lighter heart and a secret excitement. I peeked outside at my sleeping garden. It would soon know what I knew. In quiet reflection I heard myself proclaim, "The sun is coming! It's Solstice again mom...it is time to dance"
Labels: solstice 2009
posted by nina michelle at 8:59 PM
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