Exploring Empty Spaces
In my mind’s eye I go through my mother’s house, visiting each room as if I was still there.
As a child I had a small attic bedroom. It may sound like a negative space, but this room was anything but that. It was the coziest room I have ever been in. I spend many hours there as a child in my safe space.
I have always been a tiny person, therefore the room was just right for me. I remember being able to touch the slanted ceiling as I lay in bed.
Next, I walk into my mother’s room, smelling sweetness of rose water and seeing the sparkling red jewels she had lying on her special dressing table with the glass top. Ruby red was her favorite color.
She was neat but some things took on a cluttered look, especially in her closet with all her colorful clothing. She loved to wear bright colors and said, ” Colors make me feel good, and help to put a smile on my face, even when there is no reason to smile.”
You knew by looking at mom that she had a hard life. She struggled with obesity her entire life, and trouble with veins in her legs that made her ankles, calves and thighs swell to an enormous size, but she still walked unassisted for many years, never complaining of pain.
She did complain about some things, gastric issues, mostly related to her inability to talk about her struggles in life. She was forever in the bathroom, ridding herself of her empty spaces.
Mom’s silence has become my transparency. I speak on mom’s behalf now that she is gone. Trying to find the right words to speak about her wonder. She loved everyone, and everyone loved her.
As I walk through the rest of my mother’s home in my mind’s eye I feel her presence in every corner. She loved her home, invited everyone into her space and was a friend and comforter to many. She loved music and often asked me to play the piano for her. Now I ring bells for her every so often so that I can feel her presence.