I often take Vermont’s healing powers for granted after living here 6 years. This particular summer has been one of the most beautiful–languid sunsets, layers upon layers of green mountains, fecund air and exploding gardens. Everything seems…happy.

Last night, I had dinner with my Dad. I’m usually filled with anxiety right before he arrives and the past seems to choke me in its grip. Now, I’m 40 years old. I know my strength. It’s taken many years to heal from childhood wounds. Yet when Dad arrives, it’s like I haven’t moved an inch. At least that’s the illusion, the imprint, my mind holds. I feel small.

Until Dad actually arrives and I see how frail he’s become. The passing of my Mom after nearly 50 years of marriage has left him adrift. He gets lost on roads they’ve driven a million times up to VT. He doesn’t want to be alone. He’s forgetful–but still retains the life force and youthfulness that most Geminis possess. He’s less eager to nitpick and disapprove. In fact, I think he’s learning how to listen.

It would be easy to say that I feel sorry for his pain–but it’s more than that. I feel a tenderness towards life: how short these lifetimes can feel within their eternity, how we hurt each other from all our small places, how life can change within a moment so that it is unrecognizable from the last.

Right as I pulled up to the hotel, a raven screamed so loudly I literally jumped in my seat as Dad walked towards my car. After I dropped Dad off 3 hours later, another raven swooped low across my sunroof and extended her glossy winged undercoat, as if wrapping her “arm” around my car. I raised my hand up in a wave to thank her.

When I drove back home through the hills, the air was fragrant and the roads empty. I still felt that little raging girl wandering around inside of me who had so much to say. I said, I hear you. I’ll always listen. You don’t have to carry that heavy load anymore. Let me take it on. I just want you to be happy and free and play.

So, she did.

“Field” – see the rest of my paintings on the Artwork page.