My Mom started forgetting.

I said, “Ah, Mom…everyone forgets!  Look at me!” 

Her reply, “No, Kath, I am really forgetting.”  By the sound of her voice, I knew that something was wrong. 

I called last summer, The Summer of Lost and Found.  I had lost my love.  I had lost my Laurie-dog.  I lost the real-life, money-making, ego-stroking relationships with the commercial galleries.  I retired from my everything-predictable career.  And, I was dealing with my Mom’s beautiful voice telling me on our loop around the circle, “I’m forgetting.”

That was it!  I armed myself with six seasons of LOST and FOUND myself a comfortable spot on the red sofa.  And…when I wasn’t hiking and talking and talking with my friend, Cathy, or watching Jack on a LOST island, I was searching for my parents’ family roots…digging up the stories…seeking out living-family across the country…and creating a context for my Mom who was forgetting and for me, a lady who had lost the will to write or paint or dig weeds.  As a result of this huge gap…I have begun back-filling the hole in my heart.  I have filled it with new friends, new work, countless river-walks with a new dog (crazy border collie!) and now, new art.  All will be well. 

When I drive east this summer and return my mother to the ocean waves pounding up on Prince Edward Island beaches, I will carry with me a detailed recounting of her family history and I will tell her stories while we sit and watch the sun set from lawn chairs on our cottage deck.  It is a wonderful thing to find yourself again!

Two-Year Old Katie

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