Thursday, June 21, 2012

Musings

I've sadly neglected this blog.  It's often the way things work in life, I suppose.  We start something new with such enthusiasm only to succumb to demands of day to day, leaving our creative spirit on the shelf for another time.


I remember when my mom got a bread maker as a gift from my sister.  My mom was elated.  Annie and I strategized the best storage for the monster of a machine, since counter space is always a precious commodity in any kitchen.  My mother wouldn't hear of putting the behemoth away in the cabinet; "I'm going to make bread every day!", she insisted.


Every day became once every couple of weeks, which quickly became another appliance stored in my parent's garage.  I'd bet a dollar that it's still hanging around somewhere on a shelf along with cans of WD40 and rusty screws.


Intentions and execution aren't always in sync.  I started this blog to keep a memory alive-- to be reminded of the joy that my mom brought to my life.  I'm supposed to be channeling her creative spirit, damn it!  Unfortunately, that energy hasn't hit me quite as easily of late. 


Having shelved blog writing for so long frankly makes me feel scared and guilty.  I'm worried that by not putting something out "there" into the universe, I'm losing bits of my mom along the way.  I have wanted to cling to the memories of my mother, not just for my sake, but for children's as well.  They were both super small when she died.  I want them to have a piece of her; the thought that they have lost out on knowing her makes me so deeply sad.


People often throw out cliches about loss- "you will carry her spirit on to your children- they will know her through you".  I wanted to punch the first person who told me that, honestly.   But hell, the cliche has resonated with me lately.  


I see my mom in my kids every day.  I see her in my son's profile (he has her cheeks), his quick wit, and his gentle tending to his little sister.  I see her in my daughter's zest for life and her natural talent for making happiness contagious.  They, in truth, are carrying my mother's spirit- not the other way around.  They embody all that I loved about her and need to keep alive for myself.  They are absolutely, without a doubt, already infused with her love.


So, maybe inspiration will hit me more often and I'll be able to "bake bread" every day.  Maybe not.  I can still achieve my intended purpose just by paying attention and staying checked into the beauty of my day to day.