Greetings Dear Readers and Mum,
I have a memory I cherish. I am about 3 years old and it is either early spring or late fall. I think I am in Washington D.C. but it may be Virginia or Maryland. Mum and I are at the zoo or a park or something. It is one of those character shaping moments that happen because the time and place are right and the adult chooses a path with the child.
We are walking, not on the path but along a fence. There are deer on the other side of the fence. One is an albino. In the field in which we walk grow buttercups; thousands and thousands of butter cups. Along the edge of the fence there are no butter cups, they have all been eaten by the deer.
I do not know how I realized this or what compelled me. I knew in that moment that I had to get buttercups for the deer. My mum helped. Patiently, quietly she show me how to get the buttercups and pass them through the fence to the deer. My memory tells me that I spent hours feeding buttercups to the deer but I am sure I was distracted in moments.
The real thing is, that I learned it was OK to reach out to animals, do something different, and walk my own path. I lost some of those lessons along the way and all to soon the fog of childhood lifted and I realized that my mum was a person. Events of the past year have made me realize that I still have those lessons. I have walked my own path even when it was the wrong one and I was fouling things up.
Every once in a while, when faced with a choice to be like everyone else or to find my own way I remember the deer and the buttercups. I recall how much joy I felt as the soft noses and warm breath caressed my chilled hands. I remember that my mum was really interested in what I was interested in and it has made a difference.
Thank you Mom. Happy Mother Day.
Wishing you joy in the journey,
Aramis Thorn
I have a memory I cherish. I am about 3 years old and it is either early spring or late fall. I think I am in Washington D.C. but it may be Virginia or Maryland. Mum and I are at the zoo or a park or something. It is one of those character shaping moments that happen because the time and place are right and the adult chooses a path with the child.
We are walking, not on the path but along a fence. There are deer on the other side of the fence. One is an albino. In the field in which we walk grow buttercups; thousands and thousands of butter cups. Along the edge of the fence there are no butter cups, they have all been eaten by the deer.I do not know how I realized this or what compelled me. I knew in that moment that I had to get buttercups for the deer. My mum helped. Patiently, quietly she show me how to get the buttercups and pass them through the fence to the deer. My memory tells me that I spent hours feeding buttercups to the deer but I am sure I was distracted in moments.
The real thing is, that I learned it was OK to reach out to animals, do something different, and walk my own path. I lost some of those lessons along the way and all to soon the fog of childhood lifted and I realized that my mum was a person. Events of the past year have made me realize that I still have those lessons. I have walked my own path even when it was the wrong one and I was fouling things up.
Every once in a while, when faced with a choice to be like everyone else or to find my own way I remember the deer and the buttercups. I recall how much joy I felt as the soft noses and warm breath caressed my chilled hands. I remember that my mum was really interested in what I was interested in and it has made a difference.
Thank you Mom. Happy Mother Day.
Wishing you joy in the journey,
Aramis Thorn
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My Dearest Son,
ReplyDeleteIt was a beautiful day in Richmond, VA and a friend of your Nana's, from Atlanta (Bill)was visiting his mother. He came by and took us to the park and gardens. My favorite picture of you and I together, was taken by Bill on that day. I will have a copy made for you so that you can have a visual memory as well as the wonderful memory you have shared. You have given me so much joy this morning, knowing that you too remember that day.
Love, Mom