As I’m building this blog dedicated to my mother, I feel her guiding my hand.
She may not be doing this from either above or beyond. Perhaps it’s simply from within. Either way, it’s compelling.
One day recently, as I cannot figure out how to predate my entries on the dashboard that will not do my bidding, something jumps out at me from the page: March 9, 2014.
I’ll never be able to look at March 9 as just another day again after it became the last day of my mother’s life in 2012. And there it is – staring me in the face. What? Why?
It’s telling me that I’m supposed to do this, keep it up, no matter how technologically challenged I feel. I will not call her death date my deadline. Yet I do want to send my letters to her friends before that day.*
As I look at different blog themes, I keep coming back to Balloons.
But no, it’s too sweet and playful, I tell myself. This is about loss. Balloons aren’t appropriate, even if you love them.
I preview it nonetheless.
The balloons are a perfect reminder of Mama. For her 70th birthday we gave her a hot air balloon ride over her home landscape of fields, hills and woods. And the birthday package that delivered the invitation also overflowed with seventy colorful balloons, marked 1 through 70 by 4-year-old Lysle. She kept them in a drawer until they were a sticky mess and I found them the day after she died.
So Balloons after all?
I find a reference to the designer of the theme.
Turns out she lives in a town in Germany 10 miles from where my mother was born. Beats me.
Balloons it is. No matter what.
*March 9 is also, more mundanely, posted on the dashboard as a reminder that this year our clocks will be set forward an hour that day.