I was coloring and sketching and I heard her saying she would miss coloring. There was a bittersweetness about it. I knew I would never hear her voice in this world again. She’d already moved on. Even now, writing these few words about it, I’m starting to cry all over again. There was something about my relationship with her that defies explanation. She was my mother, yes, but she was also my equal, my friend, and sometimes my playmate or fellow adventurer. I’ll never laugh like that again, not with someone else, not like she and I laughed together.
Still, I can hear her voice when I call to her. It’s a whisper on the wind. Faint, clear, and so very Eileen.
- Created: March-June 2024
- Size: 52.5 inches x 38 inches (133 cm x 97 cm)
- Materials: Hand-dyed cotton fabric, cotton/polyester thread
- Techniques: Hand-dyeing, free-motion quilting, embroidery
My Thoughts on the Work
This is a hard one for me to write about.
It all began while my mother was in hospital. I knew she was dying. I knew she had chosen to give up rather than fight for life. The choice was logical, expected, and still a hard one to fully digest.
I was coloring and sketching and I heard her saying she would miss coloring. There was a bittersweetness about it. I knew I would never hear her voice in this world again. She’d already moved on. Even now, writing these few words about it, I’m starting to cry all over again. There was something about my relationship with her that defies explanation. She was my mother, yes, but she was also my equal, my friend, and sometimes my playmate or fellow adventurer. I’ll never laugh like that again, not with someone else, not like she and I laughed together.
Still, I can hear her voice when I call to her. It’s a whisper on the wind. Faint, clear, and so very Eileen.
