Alone Together – For Mother’s Day

Oh, those early years when all my shyness wanted was to go home to you. You trusted me on sick days and walked miles on your lunch hour to bring me paper dolls and make sure I was safe.  

I was the child you wanted me to be.

Copyright 2012 by JM DiGiacomo

Copyright 2012 by Diane’s mom, June

You gave me many gifts, like the gods and goddesses gave Pandora: a sense of beauty, charm, music, curiosity and persuasion. In particular there was a book, large and beautifully bound, its writing in columns and essence carved in wood.

You were as naïve as I was.

For it was also a box of unknowns, like Pandora’s, that unleashed more than either of us bargained for. I preferred the version of the myth that claimed good things were allowed to escape. All except for one.

We never lost hope.

You put the faraway in my hands, so how could I not want to go there? Of course, you meant for me to travel pages not miles.

You said you would never forgive me.

How many months we didn’t speak; how many years we paid dearly for conversations in such different time zones, trying to being ordinary when it was all so impossible.

We were both alone with our mistakes.

I never thought it would be that difficult to be away from you. My youth was lost, not to romantic discontent but missing what was true.  

How could you ever forgive me?

Perhaps you did a little. When you traveled as I did, because I did: over the sea, to another country, to places you had and hadn’t visited. You walked up the hill, heard your heels on the cobblestones and voices of the dead, inhaled the mist, saw the parsonage, the windswept trees and moors, and turned the pages back.

I didn’t see if you eyes sparkled, but I like to believe they did.

Bronte Parsonage, Haworth, West Yorkshire, England
Painted in the 1970’s.
Copyright 2013 by DM Denton

“I have dreamt in my life, dreams that have stayed with me ever after, and changed my ideas; they have gone through and through me, like wine through water, and altered the color of my mind. And this is one: I’m going to tell it – but take care not to smile at any part of it.”
―    Emily Brontë,    Wuthering Heights

Written for my mom on Mother’s Day,
Sunday May 12, 2013.

Blessings to all who nurture and care, love and forgive, and who never lose hope.



donatellasmallest©Artwork and writing, unless otherwise indicated, are the property of Diane M Denton. Please request permission to reproduce or post elsewhere with a link back to bardessdmdenton. Thank you.

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26 thoughts on “Alone Together – For Mother’s Day

  1. WOW, this is so, so moving, Diane. How beautiful, real, and full of mercy for the humanity which burdens and blesses us all. (And how interesting, that I was thinking about Pandora earlier today–so don’t be surprised if a poem shows up at Grace Pieces!) God bless you BIG–love, Caddo

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    • Oh, Caddo, what a lovely comment, with real understanding for the feelings that went into this piece. And, yes, how interesting that you were thinking of Pandora – connections are like that … often puts us on the same page, as it were! Can’t wait to read what you come up with! Blessings, hugs and lots of love, Diane ♥

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    • Hi, Ina. I’m finally catching up on comments here. Thank you for your lovely words and best wishes. Mom and I went out to dinner just down the road – the restaurant is called The Log Cabin (because it is a log cabin – as if we don’t have enough with living in one! 🙂 ) and has views of rapids and a waterfall. It was nice, although I ate a shrimp bisque soup and creamy pasta dish that proved a little to rich for my digestion. I survived to tell the tale and mom had no problem with her steak! XO ♥

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  2. Just warm, loving, gentle and you 🙂 ❤ that is how your words speak to me Diane., and wrotten so much in the voice I readily recognise and love.

    And as for the painting, well it really touched me in a deep place the first time I saw it, and I have fallen in love with it all over agin this time. Please pass onto your mum how much I love it!

    I dont know a great deal about the finer points of art, but a few years ago I did a foundation course in Humanities and the year covered art history whch fascinated me. I remember when studying one portrait where the painting was of an artist actually doing the painting, how we were asked to notice how the artist had mirrorred the colour of the dress which was red, by a touch of red on the tip of the paintbrush. I have always looked out forthis in other paintings, and as soon as I saw this the first time it struck me how your mum has mirrored the beautiful yellow of the parasol very subtly in the dresses. I am totally cptivated by this.

    And how wonderful to see a painting of the parsonage at Haworth. We have been there many times; it is actually only about a 40 minute car journey from where we live. Wonderful to see a bit of West Yorkshire on here!!

    I have gobe on a bit! Sorry! 🙂

    ❤Love and many hugs❤

    Xxx
    ,

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    • Thank you, Christine – it always means the world to me to know my writing has affected you in a positive way. Yes, that painting of my mom is one of my favorites of hers; there is something so delicate and airy and innocent about it. She has used that touch of red in other paintings, too. One I must post soon is a still-life of a vase of flowers with a Buddha statue nearby.

      I just came upon the painting of the Bronte Parsonage – had forgotten that I ever did it. Of course, I thought of you when I posted it, knowing that it is in your neck of the woods. I have probably said it before, but Yorkshire (all of it! 🙂 ) was my favorite part of England. My father-in-law was from Barnsley, and I had some friends who lived in Horley, a village near Wroxton who were from Sheffield.

      Lots of love and big hugs, Diane ♥

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    • Thank you, Susan! Sorry for the delay in acknowledging your comment. So glad the book arrived alright. I so appreciate your willingness to read and hope you enjoy it. Look forward to your feedback. XO

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  3. Pingback: A House near Luccoli. | Susanjanejones's Blog

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