Martha loved birds. Her upward-sloping backyard provided the perfect view to bird watch from the french doors in the kitchen. I probably knew way more about birds than the
average six-year old, and any gift to Martha was typically hummingbird or
nature-themed.
We spent the last two years of her life reminiscing and
enjoying our limited time with her. Each
time we visited, she seemed to have sentimental gifts for us- a piece of china
from her wedding gifts that matched our décor, a 1950’s Clemson doll for the baby we were expecting, an old medical dictionary. At my last visit with her a month
before she passed away, she gave me a stack of my old drawings she had kept in
her bible. Even though she often retrieved
these drawings to show off, I didn’t expect her to give them to me, but I am so
glad she did. Dated July 1992 (which meant I was 4 years old), was a series of drawings I made representing a bird’s life. Martha and I talked a lot about birds, so
naturally, I wanted her to know that I understood the concept of mama bird
building a nest and laying eggs, feeding her new baby birds, teaching them to
fly, and watching them leave the nest. Drawn on 4 separate sheets of note pad
with what could only be the most basic of ballpoint pens, my four-year-old self
created an art piece that I would replicate for my own child's bedroom.
With an old piece of particle board, fabric, paper, and a
marker, I re-drew these birds in the exact four-year-old fashion and fixed
them to my fabric-covered board.
I painted Martha’s prayer, and now this hangs
above Ellis’s rocker. These simple
drawings impacted Martha’s life, and now that I have a daughter of my own, I
understand not only the importance of teaching her about family and nature, but
also the sentiment of treasuring her talents and sharing them with the world so
she knows just how loved she is. I
cannot wait to see what sparks her imagination and gets her mind racing (at the
moment, it’s putting things in and out of containers and petting the dog, but
she’s damn good at it).
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