Monday, February 9, 2015
I want to write about my Mom. I am remembering today how much she is a part of who I am, my art, and humor. She is in a world of her own, i now realize.
If I think back to my childhood days, i can see reflections of it there too. What I thought was normal...what beautiful gifts it bestowed upon me.
My dad called to tell me she was in the hospital. She wanted to know what the name of the hotel was. He said " this is not a hotel, this is a hospital." My mom still believes it is a hotel.
All of this brought me to tears, today. I have to find her, in this new place now, where hospitals can be a luxurious hotel and everything is timeless. Just like when I look out the window, all i see is white. A blank page to create something new, while I still can.