Finding inspiration

It is most difficult when you lose a parent. Not only do you miss them, you also miss their counsel and wisdom. My mother is no longer capable of having a conversation. She may occasionally repeat words or phrases back to you and at times, she can answer simple questions. Although, if you ask her a yes/ no question, you cannot be assured that her response is valid. (The term non-binary takes on a whole different meaning among those with dementia.)

I found a painting by Betsey Fowler years ago and purchased it along with some prints. I adored the composition of two male lions she had witnessed in the Serengeti. Having lived and conducted my dissertation research in Tanzania, I felt a close connection. I loved how she used color and brush strokes to bring out the power and beauty of these creatures. And two males overseeing one pride is a rare occurrence but perhaps one made possible through the bond of family.

Betsey is an incredible artist and accompanied her husband Jim on his expeditions to discover and document wildlife. I remember watching Jim on Mutual of Omaha’s Wild Kingdom as a child. And I can also recall sitting with my parents watching him bring out animals- much to the chagrin of Johnny Carson. He always seemed so much larger than life. Full of wonder and joy and respect for all living beings.

I shared my love of Betsey’s art work with J.P. and somehow he managed to make contact with her team. He arranged to purchase one of her paintings for me- one with a gorgeous purple leopard in a tree which is similar to a scene I had painted on Macy’s wall before she was born.

Betsey wanted to deliver this painting in person and meet us. J.P. kept it as a surprise. I was astonished when she walked up our front steps and gave me a hug. Betsey sat with us that afternoon and shared stories of her life with Jim, her grandchildren, people in her life and amazing experiences. We talked about living and working in different African countries. She has a heart of gold and has left a trail of happiness and love and inspiration in her wake.

Betsey’s love for Jim is tremendous. One cannot help but feel that he is in the room with her. Watching her eyes. Feeling such love and pride for her. Protecting her always. Their love is one for the ages. As she pulled away, she called out: love each other as much as possible and spend time together because life is short. She also remarked at what an incredible partner I have. I could not stop smiling. I was in tears and overwhelmed at how wonderful she made me feel. Her spirit and energy. Her ceaseless love for all.

I wished she was my mother. I yearned for that love and energy and joy and wisdom. I was beyond grateful for her desire to share stories and laughter. For her constant love of learning and connecting.

Find your own inspiration. Something that makes you happy. Something that drives you to be the best person you can be. Absorb that into your heart and soul and soar. And share.

(We visited my mom today. I fed her dinner. Both of her hands are now clenched so it is difficult for her to feed herself. We showed her pictures of the girls and talked about our lives. She spoke very little but at one point whispered: you’re pretty.)