Embracing what is in front of me is my lesson these days. Not resisting. Which I do with reluctance and no small amount of resentment. But the dear bro is continuing to fade, and he’s not done yet with his life, and there must be reasons why he, with that amazing brain of his, is soldiering on. And I love him, and he loves me, and that alone is a bit of a miracle, after our childhood experiences.
Some time ago I read the quote,“People are like tea bags — you don’t know what’s in them until they are in hot water.” It was Nancy Reagan who supposedly said it but I’ve heard that nugget of wisdom ascribed to various other folks, including Eleanor Roosevelt (my true hero). First Lady Nancy wasn’t my favorite person, but these days I’m thinking about this apt description of humans under pressure.
What’s in me? Is it strong enough to make a good cuppa? I guess I’m finding out. I think today of Turkish earthquake survivors and Mississippians who saw a tornado devastate their town and thousands of others whose lives have been upended. I feel like a heap of twisted metal (certainly with plenty of sharp edges), but something stronger will be rebuilt in the aftermath. I’m certain of this.
And thank you for reading these posts. I know they are often dark. I appreciate your caring observations.
[This painting is of a rose I photographed at Aldersly retirement community where my brother resides.]
7″ x 7″ ink, watercolor, acrylic on paper = $65