Window to My Soul
A window can allow seeing in and out of a structure to get some idea of what might be inside. The structure is my heart and mind, my imagination! From the structure of my imagination, maybe a door will open to entertainment.
As an article writer, I want to provide the best quality entertainment possible. The pleasure of so doing is cathartic on so many levels. How great is it that others can find joy in the misery of an artist?
Not the type of joy where people celebrate but the joy of relating and empathizing, revealing the human soul within. Relatedness. Every writer seeks to bear his or her soul to his or her readers. Writing is the window to the heart of a writer.
My window is now open as 74 years ago from when this article was published, October 18, 1944, my mother came into the world. She left on July 11, 2018. Several of my works are a tribute to her memory and experiences. This article will be also a birthday tribute to her honor.
Catherine Bazin Oliver
Awkward Dance of Life
I love the song Stay with Me by singer/songwriter Michael McLean. I have loved the song since I heard it on a video, On The Way Home, produced by The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints of which I am also a member.
In that song is a part that mentions "...an awkward dancer on a crowded floor..." that part of the song describes precisely how life feels without the presence of Mother.
Generally speaking, adults trying to distance ourselves from our parents when we are young adults. Young adults are trying to prove to themselves and others that they can manage in life. It is a test to prove they are equal in society and relevant as contributors.
Not all of them make wise decisions in life ending up at home again with their parents. In college, I decided that it was time for me to move on and out of my parents home. My cousin had a flat with several young adults. Freedom on the mind, I moved in with them. To support myself, I took a job nearby all without telling Mother. I lasted 24 hours. Mother did not notice that I had left! If she did, she never mentioned how my first attempt to move out was a failure.
Without challenging my estimation of self, mother was constantly in my corner if I needed emotional or temporal support. With her no longer here in person, life seems awkward. Wither her gone now I must stand on my own without the thought that she will come to the rescue.
Window of Reunion Poem
Snatched is my safety; torn asunder worldly comforts--care.
Woeful is my station hoping still you could appear.
Alas, your sweet spirit touched my shoulder before you left.
Cried out my harrowed heart and danced the feelings most I felt.
Danced it awkwardly, knowing silent clapping makes no sound.
Angels and God hear you only until my times comes around.
The window to my soul revels you smiling as I move.
Stay with me in spirit until my heart heals from the wounds.
Death is separation of the body and the spirit.
God, comfort my grieving mind; I have faith You will hear it.
Family ties are forever through Jesus Christ the King.
With my faith firmly planted staying with me through this thing
Passing days, distance from when your spirit rose from this place
Does ease the pain the frequency. This thing time can't erase
Called death and loss and grieving. My heart consists mostly of
A window of reunion with kin resting in peace. love.
Zipporah Linda-Ann Johnson
The video I mentioned, On the Way Home, also details a families journey for happiness after the tragic loss of the youngest child. It is an all too real story for many people in the world. My youngest child at the time passed away in 2010 tragically. The pain has not subsided, and she is missed dearly at every family meal and activity. Grief has motivated many people to move in positive directions improving the lives of others and themselves. Losing Mother and my angel daughter motivates me to write. In each story that falls from the muse of mine is a window to the grief, love and joy life has brought through the people who've touched my life. Is this not the truth for most? I think so.
© 2018 Rodric Anthony Johnson