In that instant, all color faded from my world. No longer could I see purple in a shadow, a smile in a daffodil. In one moment, my world had become black and white. The magnitude of her loss, the absence of her beautiful presence, froze my soul, my heart, my breathe. How do you say goodbye to the first eyes you gazed into, the person who had been there since my forever?
To witness my sisters, my dad, my family void of this essence, this truly larger-than-life persona, was suffocating. For countless mornings thereafter, I awakened to the phrase "Winter is eternal.” Like a mantra only I could hear, these three words haunted me.
At the same time, I felt fortunate to have spent almost fifty years without experiencing such profound grief; being truly beyond grateful to have lived with this woman for so long, to have basked in the sunshine of her smile.
Donata moved through the world as if strangers were just friends she hadn’t met yet. When she and my dad had their roof re-shingled, she cooked breakfast, lunch and dinner for the crew, who ate each of these meals in a sense of stunned gratefulness. During her chemo she convinced her doctor to let her hem a cuff on the doctors pants that had come undone. She did these things without effort, without thought of recompense. She saw the beauty in everyone and tried her best to make everyone feel special; it was truly the essence of her being. More than anything she taught me to shine a light in the darkness and bring forth beauty wherever and whenever possible. It is what I have taken in my heart and art.
At this year’s presentation, I met the women awarded in my mom’s name, the very first recipient of the Donata Cardona Barrasi Memorial Award for Oil Painting, Diane Hillier McDonald. As we spoke I could feel Diane’s exuberance at having been recognized. At that moment it crystalized that my mother had once again touched a stranger’s life in a positive way.
I feel as humans, we are all broken, somehow, some way. But what’s important is that we find a way to keep moving forward, to make our light shine through all the havoc and heaviness of this world. This is what my mom did best. She absorbed everything life threw at her, yet always found a way to show some kindness. Isn't this what matters? Why else are we here?
I have never been more proud to read "type" than my daughters names on their hospital bassinets.
This beautiful painting by Diane Hillier Macdonald, " View From My Studio " was
awarded. The bold splash of colors, vibrant contrasts and confident brushstrokes should be applauded. I am happy with the jury results.
Thank you National Association of Women Artists for making this possible, especially Susan Hammond. ( a wonderful photographer ) I encourage this idea to set forward an award in honor of a cherished soul to keep their energy going. Maybe its a club, a scholarship fund, a donation to a shelter, an award at a local high school. Keep it personal and watch it grow. Our society moves so fast we often let thing go unsaid or unrecognized. At this reception four people approached me to tell me they were inspired by this act and were going to establish their own award for a loved one.
There is no death, just transformation? For Donata is still touching the lives of strangers.
Thank you for reading my blog. May purple shadows soften your darkest nights.
