When we arrived late Friday afternoon, she was silent, eyes fiercely closed, her frail body sunk deeply in her bed. It had been a rough ten days---a fall in the night, injured wrist, hip, cheekbone. Bruises, pain, depression in the aftermath. And to think that just the night before the fall, she'd done a twirl or two, my brother as her dancing partner, before being tucked into bed.
Seeing her again Saturday morning lying in her bed, so small, so forlorn, so without hope, undid me. I, who thrive on problem-solving, had no way to solve this one.
In the dim, sad room, not knowing what else to do, I took out my sketchbook, my pencils and pens. We began to talk. Over several hours, it was just the three of us in that room, my mother, my husband, myself. She told us stories of her parents, her grandparents, the house she lived in as a child with her large extended family. She told us about icemen and iceboxes, about sharing her bedroom with an adored younger cousin, about waking up one Christmas morning to no presents under the tree and weeping aunts---her preacher grandfather had died during the night.
While she talked and in the in-between times as she rested, I drew. At the end of the afternoon, I showed her my sketches. She can barely see most times, but she peered and peered and then said "That's me? Let me see them again." When we left her that night, she was not focusing, temporarily anyway, on pain, on being away from her home, on sad and dwindling days.
Next day, she told me "I thought about those drawings all night. I love them." She wanted me to show them to the nurses so I did.
I promised to make more sketches of her on our next visit this Friday---bigger sketches, easier to see.
These are beautiful drawings, Laura. So full of emotion.
Posted by: Evan | May 10, 2010 at 11:32 PM
Beautiful sensitive drawings of your mother.
Posted by: Wendy | March 07, 2010 at 05:56 AM
I felt your sadness in reading the text, but true to life are your drawings of her, and I can see you want to see her as the mother you know her to be, full of life and energy. Cheer up my dear, because your faith in her will help her to heal quicker (smile)
Glad I found you! -I'm a painter, but since I started blogging I've found out that people are interested in my sketches (some even more than in my paintings!).
Posted by: jeannette stgermain | March 01, 2010 at 03:04 PM
Oh, Laura...the love radiates from your drawings...spilling out from the screen.
What a gift...what a gift...
Posted by: zephyr | February 23, 2010 at 04:43 PM
Well, I see that I have neglected visiting for a while, and that life has been pressing on. I'm glad your mother had the pleasure of reflection on old times and of seeing herself through your eyes, your quick hands. These are lovely, Laura.
Posted by: marly youmans | February 22, 2010 at 12:12 PM
I'm so grateful for all your kind comments, my friends. This means a lot to me.
Posted by: Laura | February 21, 2010 at 08:36 PM