My mother with me back in 1961 (left) and my daughter Eylene and I in 1991 when I turned thirty (right) |
I'm packing for the move to Wakkerstroom. This time round, I feel a great need to sort out and discard what I no longer need . Also on a emotional level, I am more able to work through stacks of photographs and letters, cards and mementos of the times of my life and to reduce it to a manageable account without being too sentimental or precious about it..
When my mother passed away a decade ago, I was left with shelves of files and boxes containing what can be called "the hard copies of her life": journals, recipes in her own handwriting, knitting and embroidery patterns, touring guides, favourite books, accounts, photographs and correspondence. I never got round to tackling the sorting out of this tender heritage.
But now the time came to do so and I spent many a day engrossed in my mother's life. So much so that I want to some day write about her. I have all the research material at hand and only hope that what I decided to discard will not make the picture of who my mother was, less crisp.
In a file containing quotes that she found inspirational or encouraging, I found this poem, and its simple message struck me as exactly what she would want to say to me, going into this new life phase, but also to my father, who has to adapt to his new environment in the old age home in Wakkerstroom.
So another day has dawned, one you must remember
A special day you have but once, "tween January and December"
And I, who feel I am your friend, wish you well today,
And somehow, just to prove the point, this is what I say:
Don't spoil one precious moment, regretting the past year
Nor worry for one second on any future fears
Because you're still with me today, goodwill it abounds
And everyone who holds you dear, is glad you're around.
From all my happy greetings, gather up your strength
Resolve that you'll do better, go to any length
To make the coming year all yours, so happy you will be
With eager eyes and new resolve, your future you should see.
How I would like to join with you, to plan this new beginning
Help you make a lot of friends, make this year worth living
But you see, I will not be around always, to plan the things you'll do
So how you spend the coming year, is really up to you.
(Author unknown)
My own daughter will be turning thirty in a couple of days time. This is also what I would want her to know:
That my love will be with her always, but that her destiny is hers to mould.
I told her about the huge amount I'm sorting through. I said that I will try not to leave her with as much, but that I cannot guarantee it as already the hard copies of my life are filling up more boxes than I care to admit. She casually said: "Don't worry, I'll just chuck it away."
Maybe she will, as I certainly felt like doing when I started out with the clearing out process, but maybe she will discover me among the pages if something grabs her attention. And maybe she will also find that she is looking into a mirror.
Matilda
I heard her voice reading the poem... and as if... she has passed on her "hard copy" to each of one of us...more than precious, that you shared her "inspiration"... her heritage. I await in anticipation, to read her legacy.
ReplyDeleteWhy is it, that a painting is calling me from within the composition frame of a moment in time?
Our mother's life was truly inspirational, especially the last thirteen years of it as she flung herself wholeheartedly into living life to the full with a cloud of cancer hanging over her. A quote of Carl Jung's comes to mind when he states that nothing has a stronger influence psychologically on their environment and especially on their children than the unlived life of the parent. I think our mother's legacy is exactly that she eventually lived out her loves and passions and thereby made a huge difference in her environment and in us. I would love to see your interpretation!
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