Gramma will pass away soon. She’s an artist and an author, so I wrote some couplets to give her tomorrow when I visit (click the picture to enlarge it). A recurrent theme in my creative works is the seasons. I don’t know who the artist is who made this beautiful image of a tree and landscape in all phases of the year, but I thought it was inspired. If anyone knows who made the image, please let me know so I can credit him/her (I’ve used it before on this blog). Gramma’s favorite color has always been blue. I made the lower field solid, because this lower plane where we are now is a tangible existence. At the top, the edges are less distinct. I suppose this higher plane must be less clearly delineated. The definite line of separation across the two regions is a barrier that prevents the two from touching. But that is just a presumption on my part – the spiritual and poetic side of me believes the line may not be so rigid. Anyway, I want to give it to her while she is still able to appreciate the sentiment. I don’t want this to be a eulogy for a funeral I may never be told about.
My uncles are estranged from me, because of the damage they caused after Grampa passed away in January, 2011. Their prodigal return created all sorts of rifts in the family, and now they do not keep me in the loop about anything. They moved Gramma out of her apartment last week without telling me, and I had to go searching for and demanding information to find out if she was still alive and where she was now. She is in one of my uncle’s houses… so now I cannot go visit her without scheduling a meeting with a hospice social worker present. This means it has to be convenient for the social worker and my uncle and his wife for me to be able to visit. I was able to schedule a visit for tomorrow, so I’m going to print this out to take to her, in case it’s the last time I get to see her.
In case the image isn’t visible or it won’t expand, here is the text of the couplets:
Autumn leaves are jeweled tears
falling to frozen ground where they harden.
And though bitter days may pass like years,
you will bloom forever in my garden.