This painting by Henri Edmond Cross brings to mind very early memories of my mom combing out her hair.
One of my childhood memories is bathing in our pond with my mother. We were in a cedar forest and shafts of dazzling sunbeams sparkled on the top of the water like tiny stars.
Dragonflies buzzed all around us and didn’t seem to be bothered by our presence at all. Dark eyed timid deer watched us from the underbrush.
I remember how beautiful I thought my mother was naked. She stood up, laughed and shook her long auburn hair that hung past her waist. The water drops that flew from her hair into the air also looked like a cascade of tiny stars.
Would you like to share an early memory?
Posted in: Internet Relationships, Relationships
RainforestRobin
May 16, 2008
I was stunned by the beauty of this memory and your description of your mom, the water, her hair, the deer and dragonflies…all of it It is more than perfection. It brought tears to my eyes. It is SO beautiful that it reminded me of something out of a fairytale. How lucky you are to have such a memory as this. I think it reflects well on the beauty I’ve seen in your whole personality. As if this feeling of the memory were woven throughout your whole character. And it still shines out in your writing and how you express yourself today. You always impress me as someone very strongly rooted. I like that and am deeply touched by your sharing.
My mom was very aware of nature and was always showing us the beautiful detail in snow flakes, trees, feathers, birds, spring tulips, and more. That has become part of my character. I always see the infinite detail and beauty in nature.
Thank you for SUCH a poignant, deeply private and precious memory. Your sharing is a gift for me.
Bradley
May 17, 2008
Beautiful post.
I have a wonderful memory, though not as profound. My mother and I spent a lot of time together but rarely away from home.
One day in my teens she said to me, lets go play mini golf. What? I asked myself. How odd. But we did go, and we laughed and had the best of times. For a woman who rarely left the house, this is one of my best memories.
David
May 18, 2008
Yes. And these moments take less than a small part of a moment to shake us and put us in a place far away in time. I wrote a poem about my mother. But your post reminded me of another one I wrote. And I wouldn’t want to confuse the two . . .for obvious reasons….lol
http://photolinklove.com/2007/08/29/let-your-hair-down/
Lydia
May 18, 2008
Good evening (or morning as it were!),
This was a lovely post, so descriptive.
I wrote a post on Apr. 8 titled “First Memories” and it can be found here:
http://writerquake.blogspot.com/2008/04/first-memories.html
(I placed you in my blogroll but am unsure how I am linked in your blog . . . ?)
Lydia
brightfeather
May 19, 2008
Hi Lydia,
A static Links page like I have is equivalent to a Blogroll. I prefer a page to a long list in my sidebar. So your blog is there under writersquake. :)
Lydia
May 19, 2008
Sorry to seem picky, but it is writerquake — not the plural writerSquake. Actually, I couldn’t get the plural when I first signed onto Blogger because it was already taken. So I don’t want my blog confused with another.
I guess I need you to train me on what you mean by static links page. The word “Blogroll” before your sitemeter isn’t hot so I can’t check that. The solution is probably right in front of me, but darned if I can figure this one out. I am curious for more than one reason: I also don’t like the idea of having a long list so if mine gets to that point I would like to know of an alternative.
Thanks so much!
Lydia
brightfeather
May 19, 2008
@Lydia
Regarding your blog’s name
I goofed above. If you look at the Links page it is correct and so is the url. :)
This is not a free-hosted wordpress.com blog. I have a wordpress.org self-hosted installation on this domain. The theme I’m using has “static pages” and one template is for a Links page. On wordpress blogs we assign categories to each link that we enter into our Links (Blogroll). I made a separate category called “Blogroll” for for sitemeter and wp development updates only. The rest of my links are categorized as “links” and appear on my Links page.
I left Blogger ie. Blogspot in 2006 so, I really can’t help you with your blog as it runs on entirely different software than my wordpress.org blog does.
Lydia
May 20, 2008
Thanks, I found it now. I’m honored to be there!
There’s so much to learn in and about the blogosphere.
Isn’t it interesting that all of here at this post/comments had memories of our mothers? Your description was so beautiful.
brightfeather
May 20, 2008
@RainforestRobin
I want to thank you for your kind comment. I don’t know if you read the related posts or not but suffice to say that my relationship with my mother was not always a good one.
I am grateful that I do have some good memories and that I can recall so much vivid detail These are the memories that I treasure. From time to time bad memories arise as well. When they do I make the conscious living choice to summon up the good ones to replace them.
The day after I published this post I heard how poorly my mother was doing with her dementia and health issues and I just felt to broken up to reply to you or the others who have commented. I feel stronger now and I want to thank you for your patience and your friendship.
Namaste
brightfeather
May 20, 2008
@Bradley
Thanks for sharing your memory of your mom. It touched my heart and made me smile. The fact that you choose to be my friend and to share personal memories with me makes me feel quite humble.
brightfeather
May 20, 2008
@David
Your remarkable talent as a poet leaves me breathless. I loved your poem. Thanks so much for posting the link to it. Thanks also for your patience in awaiting a reply. I just had to get through the weeping period before I could come back to this post and acknowledge your response to it.
David
May 22, 2008
Thanks for reading and commenting about my poem “Let Your Hair Down”. I appreciate it. The other memory your post brings to mind is similar to what you have written about–a bright memory with mother. Just the two of us. Very special in a family with lots of siblings and a busy parent.
I wrote about it in a poem.
http://davidnotes.com/2008/01/15/mother/
Jennifer
May 22, 2008
Finally catching up to this post (borrowing time while my little one is “busy”) — that was a beautiful memory of your mother. It’s those kind of memories that remind us of the good, even when other memories try to push it out.
One of my earliest (positive) memories is that of visiting my dad’s mother. I remember playing on the red leather couch with her, looking under the cushions for something, and then gazing into her smiling face, crinkled and beaming with love. She died when I was about 3 (at 46; she had a chronic illness, which aged her prematurely) and it’s the only memory I have of her.
brightfeather
May 23, 2008
@Jennifer
I’m so glad you stopped in. It’s such a busy time of the year and having a litle one keeps you hopping I’m sure. I’m so glad you have that one memory of your grandmother. The good ones are worth treasuring. I don’t deliberately push the bad memories away (elephant in the room) but I do deliberately replace them with good ones. Wishing you well always. :)
brightfeather
May 23, 2008
@David
I loved your poem about your bright day with your mom. It made me feel warm and happy when I read it.
David
May 24, 2008
Thank you brightfeather. When I set out that morning to take photos I really had no idea where it would lead. It was a memorable one. This is one of the things I like most about the creative process.
brightfeather
May 24, 2008
I find that whenever I contrive to be creative I bomb. lol :P
Susie
June 20, 2008
A small post, but the words speak volumes, I could visualize the sun shining through on your mothers hair.
It made me recall the days before cordless phones, when one was bound to one single spot for daily conversations with relatives and friends.
My mothers 3 o’clock phone call to my godmother, she sat in the corner of the kitchen, and I would sit on the floor with my head in her lap, listening to the OMG of my Aunt Jean on the other end, as they would share their daily stories.
My mother would brush & comb my hair with her fingers, I can hear the laughter from the sisters in my mind as I type.
timethief
June 20, 2008
@Susie
Thanks so much for the visit and the sharing. :)