A Stop Along The Way

For several weeks now, my Mother has been talking about a trip she started some months ago. She has worried about her suitcase, whether the bus has enough gasoline in the tank and shown a good deal of anxiety as to whether or not she was at the right bus stop. Some days, she surveys a tall mountain and wonders aloud if a proper lorry can be secured to help her make the journey up the mountain to a place she calls Home. As I sit by her bedside, I have listened to these wild adventurous tales and thought she was hallucinating until a kindly Hospice nurse and Mother's wise Doctor informed me yesterday that this is her way of saying she is ready to make her greatest and most wonderful trip ever. To Heaven. So I got her ready.

My mother loves words and metaphors and she has been using them concisely and eloquently these past weeks, even in the midst of unbelievable, unbearable, and unmerciful pain.

And so this is to say, her ticket is bought, she is packed, and yesterday afternoon she let us know she was ready to board the bus for a journey that will take her through the plains of India, the majestic Himalayan peaks, the simple meeting houses of Ohio, over the lush verdant rice paddies of Taiwan, and on to the Purple Mountains of Nanking. Mother always said that the most dangerous and rutted roads lead through the most beautiful scenery. How long this trip will take, I can not be sure. But I guess it won't be long. The rest of this journey is up to my Mother and the Driver.

This is my send off.




~ I painted this mural for my nine month old niece Miya Brantingham who lives in Hong Kong. When her mother asked me to paint something around the crib, I cannot explain why I came up with this scene instead of jungle animals or little princesses. It just flowed effortlessly and I worked on it through the night during one of my recent trips .

I learned last night Miya and her mother Mariko are on their way here to Virginia to keep vigil with me and my brother. I look forward to a baby in the house. This is my mother’s youngest grandchild and she is a book end to my daughter Leigh, the oldest and the only other girl. I feel sorry Miya will not know her grandmother in the ways Leigh has, but just today I suddenly realized why my inner mind painted this mural to keep Miya safe through the night. It is a stop on my mother’s trip.