My dear friend, Angie, remembered me telling her that Bobbie helped design a tattoo with hearts and forget-me-nots for her grandchild. Angie never forgets any detail when it comes to thoughtfulness, and went on a thrifting hunt to find forget-me-not treasures to give to me.
The pretty plate got hung in my kitchen so I’d have a daily reminder of my sister. Not that forgetting her is a danger! She is always a part of me.
I have been missing her so much this last week. I think the grief is amplified by thinking about her daughters’ first Mothers Day without her. I hope they can still celebrate their mom, and their own motherhood through the pain of loss.
It is always a hard week for me, with my own mom gone, and now without my boy. Ryan was always so sweet to me on this holiday. I try to concentrate on the love, not the loss, but tears are shed multiple times in the week leading up to this Sunday. Yesterday, I took the dog on a walk down Ryan’s favorite route, and she and I talked about Ryan, Bobbie, and Mom (yes, the dog enjoys a good conversation while out on a stroll). We discussed my Mom’s sense of humor and her love of iris, Ryan’s way of caring for me that was always so gentle and kind. And Bobbie’s never ending interest in taking photos of the beauties of the sky. I like to look up at clouds and sunsets and imagine her grabbing a dozen or more pictures of the scene.
When I got home, I was reading about the electromagnetic storm that was making the aurora bourealis visible in areas where it’s not usually seen. Seeing the northern lights is a dream of mine, so I was impatiently waiting for the prime time to go out and look. And saw-
nothing.
So, I tried the iPhone trick I’d read about. That the night setting on the camera was stronger than our eyes and to look at the clouds through that.
That worked, revealing the colors that were hiding in the dark. I’d walked up the bridge over I70, waiting between cars for enough darkness to get a good look, thinking about how mom and I used to lie on a blanket in the yard watching the sky. And how Ryan would stand on that same bridge with me to view fireworks. And how Bobbie would plan her whole beach vacation evening around getting a sunset photo at the perfect moment.
The photos I took were pretty, but I was feeling confused and wondering if I was truly seeing the aurora borealis or not. Taking photos facing south, the colors were normal, so I guessed the northern pics were for real. I decided to go for a drive further into the country for a better dark sky, and my sweetheart got up out of bed to take me. Everywhere we went, other people had the same idea, cars were stopped on country roads, people were looking up at the sky with their phones.
Mom, Bobbie, and Ryan all would have loved the hidden colors that you had to hunt for to enjoy. The night sky itself looked perfectly normal, til the photo was taken and you could see the surprise of the color show.
With loss so heavy on my mind that day and already feeling sad, at first I was feeling super disappointed. Where were the northern lights I’d always wanted to see? It was just a dark sky, unless I used my camera to see it. Then, the more I looked at it through the lens, the more colors I saw and I was so glad that Rich and I had taken this little drive after bedtime to find them.
I was reminded that beauty is all around us and sometimes you just have to look a little harder to find it. It’s a lot like grief. These people I love so much are not ever going to be in my sight again. But if I look with my heart, not my eyes, there they are.
Filling my heart with colors.
