Gathering The Fruits Of Our Giving Tree

All things considered, life is truly a giving tree if we simply open our minds and hearts to receive its fruits. Perhaps my message may seem redundant each month. And, every month I attempt to write something new and different, but these blessings continue to come to light again and again.

The month of February is a bittersweet month in my life; particularly this year. It's been a year since I lost my mother; the 16^th of February, to be exact. I had been dreading dealing with the date for quite a while, and when it did come I took it much harder than I had anticipated. In fact, the grief I experienced all last week was overwhelmingly painful – much worse than the year before when I and my family dealt with her actually passing. It was easier then; almost a relief – because at least my mom was no longer suffering, and the anxiety of it all was over … so I thought. However, I've had an entire year to ponder and wonder, and miss her, and relive the last six years of our lives over and over.

But, for all my faults and quirks, I remain a woman of faith, and instead of asking God “why?” – or begging Him to bring my mother and my family back, I prayed with a grateful heart and thanksgiving. I thanked Him for the gift of life (my own, in particular) … But more so, for the gift of family and friends who have stood by and taken care of me over the last year. I prayed and thanked Him for giving me such a mother who led me to where I am in this life. I also thanked Him for opening my eyes and receiving the gift of creativity again. I've said it a million times before, but my artwork, my dance and my writing have literally saved my life.

And, then, I also thanked God for the other relationships I've had in my life … the ones that went terribly wrong. For those are the ones that have made me stronger. It is said, that sometimes the wrong man's purpose in a woman's life is to help her become a better woman for a better man … And, of course, vice versa. Some women can be equally dreadful, I suppose.

I've been focusing on my spirituality. So, last week, in all my grief and blind hopelessness, I chose to be silent. Sometimes, like many of us, I have difficulty with prayer. I know there is no right or wrong way to pray to my Creator. So, I choose to have simple conversations with Him. But, I never felt I was getting a response, and didn't know if He heard me. I decided to just be still … to listen in total silence, clearing my brain of all activity. I sat in silence, and I knew instinctively that the first thought that entered my mind would be my answer.

I won't tell you what my prayer was, or what the answer was. I will confirm, however, that it was on point, and by Friday morning, I felt comfortable, at peace and motivated.

That evening, I reconnected with someone dear to me, and we watched funny movies for hours. He shared with me a family tragedy he was dealing with that had also occurred last week. The laughter and the comfort of a warm companion helped us both through our heartbreak and confusion. In the end, he gifted me with a beautiful guitar. No, I don't play an instrument or read music. I'm clueless! But, the other gift from him is (possible) music lessons – Yes, at 62, I'm learning yet something else new. He assured me, that he would not teach me to play songs; but to play a guitar!

At the beginning of the month, I challenged myself to paint one picture a day during Black History Month. This is an exercise that has freed my mind, purged some ill feelings and sadness, and allowed me to express my pain and joy within myself and my ancestors through my artwork. I've worked very hard at this, and on the 22^nd day, I sold a painting I did about two years ago – one of my “church ladies.” The collector who purchased it, along with one of my hand painted tiles, wrote me a beautiful note encouraging me to continue creating. He said my artwork held a message that would be different to everyone, and a blessing to others.

So, the point of all this is that a week that began as a literal nightmare, ended in beauty and hope. I'm constantly telling you all this … there is always hope. We cannot stop walking – moving forward and living our lives and giving of ourselves.

In the last 12 months, I have so many friends who lost loved ones, somehow we are all still here – we made it through. The week my mother died, I also lost an aunt and a cousin. Three women in our family gone like feathers in the wind. Yet, all three still shine like moonbeams on all of us.

There are cardinals in my backyard now. There's always cardinals out there, one is very prominent and relevant to me; a female. I've painted her a few times, and the sight of her and the sound of her simple little song brings me much comfort.

Life under this Giving Tree ain't so bad after all. Keep Walking!

First published in The Courier-Times, February 28, 2016