Sunday, August 21, 2011
Besides being flooded with images of children starving and suffering in Somalia, I have been watching a dear friend being confronted with suicide attempts of her grown daughter. Her anguish and desperation are terrible to see. All I can do is offer her shelter. And most recently, I received the news that a childhood friend of mine had lost her oldest son. No mother wants to imagine this and yet in our darkest hours we do. I was immersed in sadness and robbed of words of comfort. How could there be any comfort left in the world when your child dies?
The darkness was rich and the light luminous. As it seems to always happen, the shapes, fabrics, stitching all made themselves known as I went along. It was finished and photographed and I was still wondering what to call it. The tear drop shape comes back in the stitching and the moon appears to be crying. I think that when ever a child dies, every mother, the moon and the earth cry. The tears water the lotus of compassion in the heart. Tears of the Mother.
It had been storming, thundering and pouring rain. As I was sewing the last inch of the label on the back, it was suddenly quiet. I looked up to see this magical scene.
This is how it is to move through the storm of grief.
Posted by Rebekah Crown at 6:36 AM