|Dalma: Words and Wisdom|
About six months ago the oncologist told my mom she had Stage III Ovarian Cancer.
The morning immediately after hearing the diagnosis wasn’t so cheery for me though. I woke up with a black hole of depression that settled in the pit of MY stomach. Of all the various self-diagnosed neuroses I proudly call my own, depression has thus far not been one of them, but I imagine it must be something like this. My heart goes out to those that struggle with this every day…that you can continue to "live, laugh and love" (as the cliché cheerfully commands you to do) while this oppressive cloud pushes down your every action is truly Herculean and you have my utmost respect…backwards…and in high heels.
After about an hour though, seratonins, or daylight, or my version of God, or reason, or paint, or coffee, or the fact I had work to do, kicked in and this empty darkness lifted in a remarkable way…unlike true clinical depression that stays. I took a shower and before too long came to the realization that I didn’t have to be sad all the time from this point forward…my mom certainly wasn’t doing that, so what right did I have to? It wasn’t even me that was diagnosed…though anyone who has lost a mother I think would agree it’s pretty damn close.
|A detail of her gorgeous hands…the most fun to paint! |
And though the globe presented me with a world of challenges,
I am happy with how it came out.
I bought my mom a globe, which she lovingly held to represent Hungary, England and her European roots along with her concern for the earth and keeping it healthy for future generations. She actually posed for me a few months before the cancer diagnosis; so it wasn’t driven by any kind of bucket-list fervor. She just wanted to pose…because she’s a Chick with Balls.
|Dalma: Wisdom and Words|