another long time

One  knows that a day can be beautifully redeemed upon reception late in the afternoon of a heavy heart rock of petrified wood, found and sent priority post by a beloved son all the way from Colorado.  The first thing I did after cutting through the two inch thick layer of bubble wrap was to lift the heart to my nose and deeply inhale; it smelled of earth, and hearth, and also of all things Colorado:  my son, deep love, fresh air, ancient stone, red earth, evergreens, bristlecone, deep blue sky.  rolling plains.  kind gestures.  kindred dreams.

Taped to the outside of the wrapping, a tiny heart rock was secured for safekeeping while it made its way across those many states.  Robin and his sweetheart, Mary, had adventured one recent weekend from their home on a mountain above Durango over to Moab, i believe, in Utah.  The desert there, Robin said, was scattered with petrified wood stone as large as boulders, as small as something to hold in the palm of one's hand.  

These gifts from my sons have made their way to me ever since they were both quite small, and searching for rocks on the shape of a heart on the grounds where they played in pre school.  I have saved them all, and place the tiniest ones inside a glass cupboard display, lest they be shuffled or knocked inadvertently off a tabletop, vacuumed and lost for eternity. 

You can see how I continue to hold on to these treasures, to be inspired by that simplest of cookie cutter shapes which reminds us all of the emotions we hold within our chests, of the memories that we hold sacred and want never to forget.  I have scoured lake edges for slabs of mica in a loosely shaped heart, fathered shell and tumbled glass remnants that, when turned this angle or that, suddenly reveal themselves to have the shape that had til then not reminded me of something meaningful.  I have cut the shape from glass and stone, have sawed it from flat sheets of sterling silver; i have woven fine silver wire into a netted shape to protect and suspend those shapes so that they hang warmly at the naked throat or over the chest, at the heart.

those shapes inspire, and then lead me to other bits of treasure that have been squirreled away in tiny drawers in quiet wait for the right time to present themselves with serendipity.  Old becomes new again, and the journey travels on.

wing becomes sacred, weathered and frayed like the best of wise things.  stone is tumbled, carved and saved; sticks are whittled by beaver and washed ashore by rushing flood waters, plucked from the sand or the silt and stood in a tall studio jar, ready five years after to take on new life as ornament, as talisman, as keeper of a dream.    

we are reminded of life's fragility, and of its strengths, when we suffer the inevitabilities of loss, and our own strength of resolve reshapes itself into an expression of deepest unabiding love.

(agate stone cut from a slab by Robin, then shaped by him into a cabochon that he sent as a gift to my ailing, grieving mother upon the passing of our dear Callie).

and somehow, i discover the shape of that valor coming through as the shape, once again, of purest unconditional love:  a flame in a stone that is shaped like a heart, a dog's ears that when relaxed in final days and memorialized in silver, take on that very same form.

This has been the most difficult 18 months of my sixty two year old life, thus far.  i've temporarily shifted and lived for the past 12 months away from Heartrock Hill cabin life in the isolated mountain woods of western NC down here to my mother's home in Alabama to offer her daily comforting visits, company and conversation that involves listening - quietly listening! , multiple daily phone chats, upkeep of grounds and financial affairs, and deepened love and care of her corgi Miss Callie, with whom i made frequent visits to see my mother in her room at a nursing home.  i've made extremely difficult solo decisions, suffered two devastating internal home floods upstairs and down, nearly lost Walter (who has beautifully survived), had to carry my mother with Callie to the vet for that final and very sorrowful visit.  I live here in my hometown and spend as much time with my precious dwindling mother as i possibly can.  my own health took a deep unexpected dive these past four months, when i spent Christmas sick and all alone with the pups for a solid two weeks, for better enough to take a trip to ohio to be with close friends for a long weekend of closeness and joy.
i have carried my mother to have eight hours in a reclining dermatology surgeon's operating chair while they whittled away at her cancerous face; i have held her hand this past tough week as we go through the painful steps this all over again, just after being told myself by ENT doctors that i will most likely require surgery to clear a sinus cavity that has become completely blocked, ever since those wildfires that surrounded the ash-filled areas just over the mountain ridges beyond my cabin back door 2.5 years ago.  All of this feels like wave after crushing wave hitting us both from behind, before we ever have a chance catch our breath, gasp for air, to stumble back to an upright position.  through all of this, though, i feel the powerful love of my boys, my mother, my walter and my close friends, who all love me without condemnation, judgment, condition.  this is the meaning of family, then, and this is expression of its purest distilled form, a medicinal balm that i remember with gratitude at long day's end.

my final words today to you are simply this:  love one another.  love with fierceness and authenticity, and by all means with expression.  do not wait to be asked for help; simply help.  be there.  be real.  and love, with passion and without ending.  remember outside of yourself  the ones who love you, who are suffering, who are sad, confused, weighed down by all the things that life and age will bring.  tell your mentors you are grateful.  reach out and touch.  listen.  see through the the ugly swaddling and the bandages that protect the injuries, the cuts and bruises underneath.  what is contained within a withering shell is what pines to be gently and genuinely loved, and be seen.  live with an aim to live for others, outside of yourselves - something for which i myself am constantly in need of checking my own flawed ways for authentic upkeep and repair. Treat with kindness.  curb anger, and ugliness.  love your creature children with crazy, reckless abandon.  love them even as you fear the day that comes when their short lives will end.  love them for loving you, as hard as they do.  and most of all, really, be grateful for grace from outside of yourself, and love thyself, love this life, live each day as if it will be a separate package all on its own, a work of art with feats and flaws and tied with tattered thread from one gift of a day to the next.

  

(it has been so long since i last posted, that i've lost my editing skills for photographs and column content.  i've sat here on my iphone for three hours and worked on these images and words, only to see that some photos have inexplicably decided to post sideways.  time is short these days, though days are long, and other things need my attention.  Forgive the mess here, the upside down, the unedited words, the unintended sideways glances.  be well, and thank you for being here if you stumble upon me here again one day.  xox

 

 

Comments

[Nina]

me here, first to comment on this blasted lopsided approach of a post. xo

[Laurie G.]

Very much enjoying your words and photos. With love, from California

[Marie]

You have been greatly missed, even though we have never met, you have been a presence in my life through your gifts of words, and beauty. Sending you love through these trying days.

[Linda Lipford]

It is such a dreadful privilege we have to be able to care for our ailing elderly loved ones. Dreadful in the heart-tearing moments of their distress but moments of reality we are thankful for later. That is the terrible but wortht nature of memories and grieving.

[Karen Lane]

Nina - you are the keeper and holder of so many images and feelings - the daily work you are doing is so needed and so very important... In loving you are loved...
Karen

[Tina Mardis]

Life is itself sideways, unedited and upside down. So be it.
That’s how grace happens.
I’ve missed this place.
Sending good thoughts your way...
and hopes for brighter days and renewed strength.
Tina M.

[Dawn fritz]

Oh Nina, thank you for your kind words & reminders to find joy in everyday & to love fiercely. I too am overwhelmed from caring for my aging mother, making difficult decisions in regards to her well being and grieving the loss of my faithful “fur” companion. It becomes easy to forget the things in life that are important. Hugs to you.

[Corinne Meharg]

It's nice to see you back here. I always enjoy hearing your take on things. It's hard work you are doing, beautiful and painful and welcome.

[Sharron Carleton]

Such an important message, thank you for taking the time to do this... your words have been much missed xoxox

[Diana Giambrone]

Dearest Nina,
I found you years ago when we both had dark hair. And now today i find you again. On a day when my husband discovered one of his best buddies gone to heaven when he went to check on him after unanswered texts and calls. Life is so good and filled with Joy until it isn’t anymore. Anyway i wanted you to know that YOU have been a Art mentor, a blessing, in my life and I wanted to thank you from my heart. And thank you for this beautiful posting that touched me deeply. God love you and your momma and your sons and Walter. You are a blessing.
Diana ❤️

[lauren]

with love to you, for every word and every emotion.

[Jacky Mcfarlane]

You have been my mentor for so long. Sending lots of love and big hugs ❤️❤️❤️

[Stacey]

We have never met, but I have followed you for years through your posts. I searched for you yesterday, thinking I may have missed a post from you, and here you are today with a beautiful post. I didn’t even notice that the pictures were this way and that, but when you pointed it out I smiled and thought, “How perfectly imperfect as life sure is”. That gift from your son warmed my heart. You have definitely had a long difficult season Nina. I thank God that you have been able to weather it and still find the wise lessons in all of it to share with all of us. You process everything with the love and wisdom that is within you, that stands the tests of life and grow with each trial and times of joy and love that you experience. Thank you so much Nina. May God bless you, give you strength and peace. Btw .... those pups are adorable and seem to bring your mom so much joy! Love and hugs to you and Walter!

[Patricia Walters]

Sending you love and energy with thanks for this post even though (or maybe because) it tells of your sorrows and struggles. You have such an amazing with with both words and pictures. Every post - no matter how far apart - is a treasure you give to us on this side of the post. 😍😍😍

[Diane]

i have missed you

[Pati Ray]

I have been blessed to read profound posts from two wonderful women today and just when I needed to hear these words the most. So many of us are in that sorrowful struggle to take care of an aging loved-one whose only crime is getting old. Hard to watch, hard to be patient, sometimes hard to love. Everyday is a new day and I love that approach. I find myself calling on my departed friends and family members to help me when I'm setting off to help my mother down her path. I always ask for the strength to be as loving and kind and helpful as possible with my heart ready for any fate. Thanks for always sharing your heart.

[kathy dorfer]

xxoo
miss you ( :

[Katey]

What a beautiful gift this morning. Awake at 4am jet lagged, I quietly made a cup of coffee and pulled a blanket out and curled up to see you insta post. Your writings are always so full of visual beauty. Your postings reminded me of the first time I ever read your posts. I am so sorry of the hardships you have been enduring. I think of you often and in fact dreamt of you last night. Sending prayers and love and hugs to you and your dear mom. xo katey

I know how long it takes to write a post and how endlessly frustrating it can be. Those sideways iPhone pictures have cursed me too. The only fix I have found is to upload them into a photo program like pic monkey and save them and use saved file.

[Emily]

Oh how I have missed your most beautiful writing and heartfelt words. I did insta for a hot second, but now I rely on the very few blogs out there still running. You were always a favorite. If I could just take away any stress, even for a day, I would take it for you. Thank you for coming here and allowing me to catch up with you. You are so special, and I send lots of love to you and your family.

[Jane Dicus]

I have missed the "Nina" posts...you always share your strong words and genuine emotion with your readers. You have been through so many of life's trials and tribulations - and always seem to have enough wisdom and energy to lift us up. Am looking forward to our art adventure at Ghost Ranch and spending some time with you.

[Susan]

I have for so long and will continue to keep your sweet blog bookmarked, can't tell you how thrilled I was to see you and your words and images and be reminded of your strong heart and caring nature ... it sure sounds like you have needed them this past year. Holding you and your dear mom in my thoughts.

[Martha]

Nina, so glad to find you again. Thank you for your words and your photos.
I am always happy to know we still share this world.

[Jane]

Thinking of you...
💖

xox

[Christine]

Although we have never met and I have visited here infrequently; I must thank you for your words of love, wisdom, caring, joy, pain and all that we should be reminded is good in the world. Especially our worlds. It is easy to get lost in the day to day and not stop to appreciate that it is special. With deep gratitude, I wish you the best and send caring thoughts.

[mary]

man plans, eh?

reading your post is like cool water after a very long, hot journey. i wish for you only good things - love, light, family. sending a blast of prayers to you and your sweet mama.

xoxo always

[laura]

Please know you and your mother are in my thoughts and prayers. If there is ever anything I can do, just let me know.
love & blessings
~*~

[Loretta Marvel]

How wonderful to “hear” your voice again in this format. I miss my own blog and half heartedly open it up every few months but it seems over whelming to catch up and I end up just shutting it down and posting another pretty picture on Instagram. I think of you and your mom often and wonder how she is and how you are through this transition. Was wonderful and your post to see her happy face despite the oxygen despite her obvious discomfort to see her laughing and enjoying life. Now that we have moved to Cape Cod permanently I too am making the journey Similar to yours. It is four hours from the Cape to where my kids are in my sisters. My daughter was having a rough pregnancy and now has had the baby three weeks early but he is well. Like you I pack books magazines, sewing kit, journals, paint, and what other Art supplies I think I may need. Sarah our dog is going to be 13 years old and she tolerates the ride but spends her time in my daughter’s finished basement where we sleep because she is too feeble to climb the stairs. It will be one year on Saturday at the whole family went with our younger dog Brewster with the same sad trip that you endured with Callie. I hope this spring is kind to you and your mom and you may enjoy being with her and she with you and always with Your sweet pup. Xoxo