There is a set of paintings that my Ma had promised me, for Elizabeth, to put up in her nursery - they are from my childhood book that was given to me by my cousin (JP as inscribed in the front page) on my 4th birthday. They were all drawn and she had started to paint them, firstly the red, then orange - I'm not sure how far she got, but as soon as she heard that Elizabeth had died, she cut them all up.
I hated her for that, cutting up something that was meant for my daughter, her granddaughter. In my eyes destroying something that had so much emotional attachment, to me, Elizabeth and her - that was unfair. Unfair for taking a memory away from me, unfair for taking away comforting paintings away from me and Elizabeth's nursery.
But a few weeks later came a card in the post - it was apart of the first painting and the sight of it made me cry. You see it was.... let me see if I can find it....
This is my book, there are no pictures on the web of it.
This is part of the painted RED picture that I got, addressed to Elizabeth on the date of her funeral.
It broke my heart. The little girl is waving goodbye, or is it hello?
They are flying butterfly kites.
When Ma came, she brought another cream envelop:
Inside she has written why the picture means so much to her, the fact that she knitted me a Piggie and that her dress was like the girl's in the story, simple, brown, but very soft. The fact that she hopes Elizabeth likes her Piggie that Ma knitted, how she had planned to knit it for a long time and couldn't wait to meet her.
They break me, reading those cards - my fake facade is left in shatters around my feet. It shows me that Elizabeth had touched so many peoples lives without having even meet them. It shows me how loved she is and that my job of remembering her is made that little easier, knowing that others are thinking of her too.
I feel this too. My job as her Mother continues. I must share her with those that dreamed and hoped for her but never got to meet her.
ReplyDelete-Sadie