Productivity

by Allison Moore | Feb 13, 2017 | Day by Day | 4 comments

“If you spend too much time thinking about a thing, you’ll never get it done.” —Bruce Lee

Somehow, I’ve found myself if a period of intense productivity, which feels great. I no longer feel like I need to dwell on my grief, so this also feels like a kind of emergence. I’m not sure where I’m meant to land in this journey, but there is a feeling of momentum once again.

This Wednesday, I’ll be hanging an exhibit of my recent painted ladies at the beautiful Mission Viejo Library. They will be up for Women’s History Month, until the end of March. I’m excited for the opportunity as even before I painted Eleanor (the first of the series) I imagined them as part of educational shows in libraries or other civic spaces. So this is hitting the ground running. I’ve been trying to paint as many of these as I can before Wednesday’s deadline. Now they are mostly all framed and ready to go. (I might have time for one more, we’ll see.)

The other big news is that I produced my first podcast, something that surely will be a sharp learning curve for awhile. It’s an interview with Justine discussing what inspires her about Harriet Tubman (we’d read about her at bedtime for a few nights.) You can check it out here if you are interested. As you will hear, Harriet Tubman was brain injured as a child. It’s quite remarkable that she was able to accomplish all she did with that disability. It made us wonder if sometimes the disability is a sort of gift which allows people to be extraordinarily focused perhaps on the one or two things that truly gives their life meaning. As I continue to learn about the histories of these heroines, I am finding some common attributes about humanity. Often it is those who have experienced great loss that are motivated to make the world a better place. I would hope that our family takes on that path of turning great grief into great good. I am inspired.

If I have to live my life without Vernon, then I get to create the life I want to live. That’s how I see it, anyway.

PS Next weekend, I’ll be hanging another beloved series of paintings at the Syren’s Hair Parlor in San Clemente. I’ve just finished painting the frames that a friend, Bob Lloyd, helped me build.  And God-willing, I’ll have another podcast going up this week. (Next up: Mother Teresa.)

Closure

by Allison Moore | Feb 7, 2017 | Day by Day | 19 comments

I know many of my readers have been curiously waiting for me to share the details of the meeting with the other driver, and whether it even took place. It did take place, the very morning it was planned, though we weren’t sure the wife would be there or it it would be postponed till the last minute. It turned out that she only got the news that morning, and managed to come out during her lunch break.  I was grateful for her willingness to be there regardless of the communication mix up. Because of their repentant attitudes, I won’t go into all the details here. It’s their story too, which I don’t feel I can fully share now that we’ve established that. But I will say I went into the meeting assuming I would find uncaring people. I was ready to say my piece but I imagined the worst: that it would fall on blank ears. It wasn’t like that at all. We found a young couple who had been overwhelmed by the situation, who had listened to the advice of others/lawyers not to contact us or answer us. I still believe conscience should trump advice, because we have to live with ourselves and our choices. So we talked about that a little bit, and I explained what had happened to Vernon. I asked them my questions and they answered every single one. I felt like they were emotionally present with us, which I am sure was difficult. It was difficult for us too, but so important.I found out that he had lost his own father in a car accident when he was young. When I heard that, I stopped hearing anything else as clearly, but began to hurt for that boy.

So when Maki came in (we’d spoken as adults for a half hour or so, with lawyers in the room) and evenly delivered his words about his dad and how much he had changed after the accident, I know it was a big deal. (I don’t want to comment on that more here as I’m not sure who reads this.) Justine, who I’d thought would be full of words, got a little shyer in her “first adult meeting,” simply said: “I just want an apology.” They nodded tearfully, and apologized, mentioning that they too had a little boy about her age. She squirmed on my lap for a few seconds, and then looked back up at them: “I forgive you.”

So here we are. Finished with the hour long meeting we barely got to have. No money on the table, no sudden windfall. But it was never about that…I knew very early on in the case that there was no money to be had. But we got what we wanted out of the meeting, in the end. It took a few days to even be able to talk about it with my close friends. It still feels surreal. But something good happened. I could feel space for breath inside my body that hadn’t been there for a long time, maybe ever. I was less angry at the world (still sad and concerned, let it be known.) And even Maki said he felt good that it happened, he felt better.  So I guess that could be a kind of “closure” in itself. I don’t know what happens next, I’ll chat with my attorney. But in the meantime, there are no more ghosts around the accident. That in itself,is a spiritual breakthrough.

Incidentally, in the room we met, there was a framed photo of an eagle’s head. That was the bird Vernon used to say was his special animal that had showed up at significant times in his life. When I got home and opened the internet, this image came up—a meme with Vernon’s Amatic font. I’m taking it as a message from him. 🙂

Another Grief Poem

by Allison Moore | Feb 4, 2017 | Day by Day | 3 comments

Grief is an unexpected child,

helpless, needy, hungry,

desperate for my care,

dying without my attention.

Come from nowhere, left on a doorstep,

in a basket, dropped by a stork.

A baby all day in my arms,

keeping us fully awake nights,

whether I take her to bed with me

or put her on the other end of the house

in the dark, behind a closed door.

The unpredictable crying overwhelms us both.

There are tears, sleeplessness, guilt,

anger, frustration, but mostly

the early parenting fog

that disconnects you from the living.

What am I supposed to do with this thing?

The books don’t really help, and

those who have come before nod and cluck

and tell me: “you’ll figure it out.”

I speak to God and feel the answer:

“Keeping her alive is your most basic job,

keeping her healthy is better.

The more you put in, the more you’ll get out.

What kind of parent do YOU want to be?”

In time, of course, there is a routine

The baby smiles…says MAMA

I feel proud of this child, affectionate even,

and proud of myself for getting this far.

Soon, she starts to eat and grow.

I can hardly keep track of the changes.

Somedays nothing, we can barely leave bed,

but more and more: independence!

Then there is the day I take her to school,

and stop thinking about her till afternoon.

She starts to have a mind of her own,

wants to walk the bridge by herself.

A teenager emerges eventually/suddenly.

The thing parents dread: smells and hair and emotions.

And yet, it’s good. We’ve come this far together,

I remember my job isn’t to make you cling,

but to gently push you toward the door.

And then when that day comes, will I be ready?

To release you back to where once you came?

A child only lent to me to raise…

This grief, always entwined with my heart,

but not meant to live in my house forever.

When I think of that, I yearn for connections

Once she leaves, will she visit from time to time?

I’d be heartbroken if she didn’t.

We’ve become one with the effort.

I’ve put so much into you…don’t go too far, please.

This is a passport photo of myself and my mother circa 1972. (We were on our way to Guatemala for a couple of years.)

Nifty Fifty

by Allison Moore | Feb 3, 2017 | Day by Day | 2 comments

So…yesterday was a milestone in that it was Vernon’s first birthday post-earth. Also, he would have been 50, another major milestone. But we’ve done so much celebrate his memory over the past months, I didn’t want to make a big deal out of this. He was never big on his birthday, really. But I didn’t want to ignore the date. So I did something for myself that Vernon would have been proud of. I launched a new blog for my paintings of inspiring historical women. Please join me over there if you are so inclined. (More to come!) For me, this project represents how I feel about moving into the future as a single mother/woman—while hoping to encourage my sharp daughter’s independent thinking.

We also spent the evening at home making art together. Justine skipped out early, but I can show the ones Maki and I made here.

Of course, we had chocolate ice cream as well.

Click here for the Groundbreaking Girls Website.

Ice Cream (and Vernon’s Birthday)

by Allison Moore | Feb 2, 2017 | Day by Day |

Today would be Vernon’s 50th birthday, what a milestone! It’s also the first birthday since he died. So we know this is an important day. We want to invite everyone to eat chocolate ice cream in his honor, if you are so hungry. Here he is, just days before the end, showing how it’s done. Enjoy!