It's been about 2 months since my mom's passing. Some days are easier than others. There are days when I've accepted her death, knowing she's in heaven, that she's at peace, and I will see her again.
Then there are days that when I am overcome by the knowledge that she is gone, and I am just so sad. Often, for a split second, I forget she is gone. When the phone rings, I think it's her, then I remember.
A few weeks ago, a friend suggested I paint a picture to let some of my feelings for my mom out. To be honest, I hadn't picked up a brush for at least 6 months. I could not find one ounce of motivation.
However, the other day, on one of my "weepy" days, I picked up a brush, pried open the stuck-on, paint dried, caps to my tubes of paint, and painted. "In My Mother's Arms" is a small, simple, and raw painting of how I felt sitting in my mom's lap as a child. It was a release of some pent-up emotion, and I felt better afterwards.
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