mama mia

 

The courage that my mother had
Went with her, and is with her still:
Rock from New England quarried;
Now granite in a granite hill.

The golden brooch my mother wore
She left behind for me to wear;
I have no thing I treasure more:
Yet, it is something I could spare.

Oh, if instead she’d left to me
The thing she took into the grave!—
That courage like a rock, which she
Has no more need of, and I have.

                                         ~ Edna St. Vincent Millay

i, too, have a brooch from my mother..

it is a petit point piece she needle crafted 

of roses..or are they poppies?

small lush red blooms that claim her gift

in mastering the art of tiny stitches..

i do not wear it often for fear of losing it..

it is olde fashioned..

reminding me of her great generation ~

our ancestors of indomitable will and courage..

the fullness and the vast capacity she had to love, 

to love her wily daughters,

to forgive the transgressions, 

the myriad misdemeanors,

the punches pulled, 

the bamboozlements attempted..

pulling no wool over her bright eyes..

my mother was resilient, brave and charming.

she traveled the distance - to wherever -

claiming that indeed..

this is the best possible world..

it is good to love many things,  

for therein lies strength,

and whosoever loves much performs much,  

and can accomplish much,

and what is done with love is well done.

there's nothing more truly artistic than to love people..

                                  ~ Vincent Van Gogh