Tag Archives: Art and Illustration

I’LL LIVE WITHIN MY BROKEN HEART

I have written before that everyone handles his or her own grief differently. Now, I want to share my own personal beliefs about grief:
It is not recoverable; one adjusts to it.
Healing is possible, and maintaining hope of it can provide sustenance. But the process of healing is uncconscious and happens despite certainty that grief is endless.
Many, many people succumb to their grief.
Grieving is hard work and consumes one’s existence.
Although it is rare, it is possible to find joy again. But finding it is a conscious effort and requires giving oneself permission to be happy. Continue reading

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MEMORIES I TREASURE

I do have a strong attachment to memories. My memories might involve “objects,” but those objects only serve as a way to remind me of memories filled with special people whom I’ve loved. Some of those memories are sad. Currently, I’d like to think that I am creating happier memories. There are many “firsts” in my life, as I am now living on my own at the age of 53 for the first time in my life. Continue reading

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HOW SPECIAL YOU WERE

It was eighteen years since I had last moved. My art studio held many areas for me to sort through. I dreaded the process of packing, and I found many excuses to put it off. Initially, it was excruciatingly difficult to tear myself away from working on my audio book and songs. I was so close to finishing everything. But packing was the only way I would be able to move forward so I could exit the tunnel I was in. Finally, I had to accept that I would not finish my book before moving. Continue reading

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SHE FOUND HER INSIGHT

I could write pages and pages of my memories from beach outings with my mother. Throughout the day, I felt so much nostalgia remembering those times in my life. My mother was relaxed and sang blessings in Hebrew as we walked near the marina. Despite her advanced dementia, she appreciated the outing more than I anticipated. As I drove home, she slid down in her seat, and the seatbelt was barely holding her in. We arrived back at her nursing home. Just before taking her out of my car, I reached over to kiss her. I could see she was very tired; she had hardly rested as I drove home. I believe she didn’t want to miss a moment of time sitting next to me. As I kissed her, she said softly, “Thank you.” I wanted to be sure I heard her. So I said, “Mom, what are you thanking me for?” She answered clearly, “I had a wonderful time. Thank you.” Those were the clearest words she had spoken all day, and were exactly what I needed to hear. The beams of light that shone from my body could have illuminated a city at that moment. Continue reading

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