The sweet ladies of my ceramic class remind me of my mother. They are characteristically quiet while they work, meticulous and exact in what they do, and filled with wonderful and artistic ideas. So you see it seemed easy and natural to tell them about my mother. And to, maybe it is because my mother would have been in her nineties if she were still with us. I almost laugh to write that last part because I feel her so close all the time. I have written about her somewhere here in these ramblings. Her birthday would have been on June 6th.
You understand that I am not a boy (in age) and most who meet me consider me rather dangerous and overpowering. The truth is that I am rather sentimental and tend to be inwardly emotional. She taught me so much that I can't help but feel her (and sometimes see her) all around me. I have a sweater of hers, hung on a hanger and in a plastic bag, that I look at (and sometimes caress) every day. We have her rocking chair that sometimes for no reason just rocks on its own. (Recuerdos de los seres queridos son fuertes en mi familia).
One way to look at life is to see it as a quest, or more accurately, a pilgrimage. We are pilgrims seeking answers and miracles. We bring nothing with us and depend on the generosity of others along the way. Events such as love, work, graduations, children, etc. are just stops along the way to get our visa stamped. Oh! How we covet our "stamps". We hold them up to others and say, "see, I have more stamps than you do" or, "my stamps are bigger than your."
We forget on whose road we walk. Who gives us guidance and great gifts. We moan about the hardships along the road and pray and wail loudly for just a little more time to stay on the road.
It is almost my mom's birthday and I miss her, but, I know she walked her journey well. She was a good daughter, loved one man all her life, loved, educated and cherished her son with all her heart. She believed in God and followed His will in her life. And, that is the way of life.