|Waiting for the Train, oil on canvas 10"X8"|
I am sitting quietly by the fire tonight, with my mom in her reclined wheel chair beside me. She is in her final days. She is sound asleep as result of her palliative doses of morphine. Caring for her has changed rhythm dramatically this week; instead of cooking, laundry and personal care, it is about keeping a weather eye for signs of pain in order to keep ahead of it.
Rather than waiting, it is more like learning to "be" with her in each moment. Time seems to have no real substance and one day seems to be melting into the next. Although I long for her release, it is hard to imagine her actually being gone. I know she will leave when she decides it's time and not a moment before.
I am posting this painting I suppose because it echoes my mood this evening, which is quiet and contemplative, and writing feels cathartic tonight. An empty bench, a soft palette with a few accents - when I set up to paint on location I wondered if there was enough there to work with. What I am learning is that an understated and simple subject matter can be as engaging as something obvious and bold.
There is something very beautiful about the subdued and the quiet. It is dynamic in a hushed way just like this bittersweet time in my life.
All my best to all of you.