Don't go through life, grow through life.
Eric Butterworth
This is a continuation of the "spiritual journey" story I began several entries back.
Spiritual Journey: Part 4
As my illness got fairly under control, my clock was ticking. Since I was a little girl, I've known that I'm meant to be here to make things and to have a family. Although it seemed like we tried forever, it really wasn't so long: 8 months after starting, we were pregnant. We were delighted, ecstatic, worried, nervous...even more so when we found out it was twins. I wasn't surprised at all: my grandfather, who was born in 1902, was one of 9 children -- with 3 sets of twins! My mother and I had discussed at various times how it wouldn't be surprising for me to have twins. Carefully, very carefully, we progressed, until one day 5 months along, my water broke. With in the next 24 hours, we had lost them both. As I write this, it has been 8 years and 7 days. They were 2 boys, the last one we got to hold for a few minutes, perfectly formed, except on the inside. Needless to say, we, I was devastated. (On a side note, the night before I delivered, my father had had a disturbing dream in which he was walking down to the water holding the hand of each little boy. They began to run ahead and he told them to wait. They said to him, "you have to let us go", which began my fascination with the afterlife/spirituality/our proximity with another state of consciousness. Several other experiences occurred during my father's sickness, and preceded his death.)
Back to where this relates to this particular writing, soon my recovery
showed up in my artwork. Here are several examples of what I
painted during this time.
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