Saturday, February 9, 2013

rose and marshmallow...

hi everyone.

We're getting a blizzard here today...
this is only the beginning, taken earlier this morning.

But i have wine, so all is well. :-)

I am posting something i painted and wrote
about a week ago.


i just came back from my parent's place.
My father's place, now that mom is gone.

i spent a few hours there,
sorting some of mom's things…

baskets filled with her makeup,
creams and lotions,
nail polish, lipsticks,
expired medication.

Half empty bottles
sitting next to
christian crosses
and religious medals.
Empty promises
and prayers.

It felt very strange to open a tube of lipstick
and to know that she used it
only a few months ago.

To find medication,
for muscle pain
and itchy scalps
and mouth sores
and sensitive skin -

the lovely effects of chemotherapy.

It is a strange weeding out
of things.

What to keep and what to trash.
As i looked at expiration dates,
i thought about how
nothing is permanent.

Even the eye drops have a beginning
and an end.

A kind and generous soul asked me
the other day
if i had reached the anger stage
of grieving yet.

i replied no, that I hadn't,
and that i didn't think i ever would
because in my mind and heart,
there is no one to be angry with.

The doctors and caregivers
did everything they could
for my mother.

My mother
did everything she could for herself.

Compassion is much healthier
for the heart
than anger.

Life doesn't go on forever
for any one of us,
and sadly, some lives end
before we want them to.

that's just how life is.

At least that's what mom would tell me.


  1. Beautiful post, brought the tears to my eyes. I suffered loss this week, even though it was a young person - cystic fibrosis I know I will never have the anger stage because what life she had was full and now the suffering is at an end, and she brought so much joy to all she touched, how could you be angry?
    I love your drawing, so poignant!

  2. This gave me chills, Pauline. I could really relate to it. My deepest sympathy on the loss of your mother...

  3. Poignant, thoughtful, caring, full of love. My condolences for your loss ... and yes, you have a very healthy take on life and death, the cycle of life... Your art is a sweet addition to your thoughts and words in between. I bet your mom was proud of her artist daughter! Everything expires, even us. big sigh! and Hugs!

  4. Beautiful writing along with your touching art.

  5. Very poignant post once again!! Love the sketch so are so talented...that lipstick could be my mothers...I did the same and felt the same way going through her creams and such...Some things never change.


  6. Hi. I am sending you a smile, and a hug. I lost my Dad to cancer and now these past two months, there have been many times when I thought I might lose my Mom... I still touch objects that my Dad touched... I'm not sure I ever felt anger either... I mostly just feel loss. I remind myself to "miss good" whenever I want to cry and miss bad. I bet you smell your Mom's scent in her cosmetics... I'm sorry for your hurt, Pauline. I wish I could send comfort. Your art is touching and I know your memories are. ~ kathy

  7. Beautiful writing Pauline, sending you hugs.
    Loving your artwork. Happy PPF, Annette x

  8. Beautiful post, Pauline. It's starting to snow heavily again here too so iwe're in for a very cold night.

    Loss of a loved one is so difficult. I don't really know what to say, so I'll just send you much love and healing thoughts.

  9. What a beautiful post. Thank you for sharing with us.

  10. what a lovely watercolor of every-day, yet intimate things. such a sweet post...blessings to you!

  11. Your posts about your Mom have been incredibly touching for me while missing my grandparents. I lost my grandpa just over a year ago and my last ties to that generation. It's been a nostalgic year... Seeing your Mom's beautifully painted lipstick reminding me so clearly of my grandma. The distinctive smell of her lipsticks and other beauty 'potions'. Thank you for the healing tears my friend. Stay warm xx

  12. Your words give such a poignancy to your beautiful painting. Lovely of seemingly ordinary items on their own - it takes on such depth and meaning to think of those items in that way.

    So sorry for your loss.

  13. oh my Pauline...what a great post!!!You have such a way with words!!! And the anger stage, I think you are very much like your mother...not an angry bone in your body, so I can't see you going through that stage...but if you do, that's OK too. We all have our way of grieving. And you know what...this is probably one of my very favorite simple, yet so beautiful!!!

  14. Thank you to everyone for taking time to share parts of your stories...
    Sylvia - my wonderful aunt... MERCI. xox

  15. Beautiful...thank you for being transparent even in your grief...

  16. Pauline I enjoy so much reading your blog,you are quite a good writer,you really should write a book,and all your drawings,super nice....thanks for sharing .....

  17. Beautiful watercolour and your writing is so very touching. Thank you for sharing with us, your mom was such a kind, sweet loving person just like you. Rachel xx