But we are not talking about raging against the dying light. My painting was painted in sorrow, in pain and in memory. In previous posts I have talked about the passing of my Aunt Anita.
In May she passed away, quietly and swiftly. And very unexpected. It was a blow to many of us as she was so well loved and such a beautiful light, an extraordinary example of not only what the world hopes of a Christian, but as a human being. The loss of her is deep, it is constant. Every day I think of her and most days now I can smile.
But some days, like today, I weep because she is not physically here anymore.
Today would have been her 67th Birthday and I can not call her, email her or hug her to wish her a wonderful day full of happiness and love. But I can pay homage with what I made, in her memory.
After I returned from her funeral, across the country, I painted this. It was one last tribute to her. If I could give this to her I would, but then I never would have painted it in the first place. And I would gladly trade having made this painting to have her back.
All I ever wished for her was to have happiness and peace, she is at peace now, and she indeed went gently into the good night, on the eve of Mother's Day.
She didn't need to rage against the light, she was a light all of her own and she left an eternal flame behind.