Mother’s Day, May 8, 2016
I have always loved the beauty of faded, fragile, dried roses. In my youth they represented the ability to grow old gracefully. They now represent the passage of time and the inevitable changes that are imprinted on life with each new sunrise. Like the grooves in a record, the lines represent captured data, sometimes a cacophony of life’s struggles and sometimes a world of wondrous emotions, love and the expression of shared moments. I don’t mind that I am faded, more fragile and wrinkled than I was on the days I gave birth to my three children. Through these weary eyes I continue to watch them grow and become more of what they can be. They still invite me to share the adventures of their lives and I happily join them. I, too, continue to grow and blossom, inspired by my children and their friends. Perhaps I am growing old gracefully, perhaps I am growing old foolishly. Perhaps growing old foolishly is the secret to growing old with a happy heart.
Ink and Watercolor
Happy Mother’s Day to all the graceful and foolish mothers as well as all the other mothers, too.