Abby on Mother's DaySpring morning, Vashon Island, WAA perfect spring morning, the water smooth, teal silk. The mountain shows its shy face, both miniature and overwhelming at once. Tea on the deck in the sun after a cold, blustery, soggy Seattle week. The mothers are called one by one. The boy arrives in boxers, bed headed and sleepy eyed, to hand me a note, part hand printed, part typed as I am on the phone to my own mother, so that I read it aloud. It begins with a "yo sup mom," and ends with "peace out hommie," that has us all laughing across 3,000 miles.The moment appears tonight through email, richer in colour and warmth than I would have imagined. It seems impossible to think that there was a day when I thought I would be blind to colour forever. But this moment is captured, reflected in the lens of one who sees it all.

Previous
Previous

Creating Space

Next
Next

Discovering Our Inner Divine Feminine, The Sex and the City Method. Cosmo not Included.