Saturday, May 13, 2017


 When a loved one dies we grieve and eventually try to perceive the reality of a loss so devastating that it seems beyond the realms of possibility.

Eventually we seem to heal outwardly, but the wounds deep within are eternal. The distance of time leaves us grasping for tangible remnants, which become fewer with every passing year.
Soon there is nothing left but faded photos and gentle memories that linger like ghosts dancing on a misty horizon. 

I have already lost too many people that I loved. In the enormity of their absence I've had sufficient time to contemplate my own mortality.

The dead often become saints in the minds of the living. We forget their flaws, forgive their sins, and reinvent their histories in order to appease our anguish.

My mother was worthy of being remembered as a saint. She was compassionate, patient, long-suffering, forgiving, and the most honest person I ever knew. She endured a lifetime of physical and mental abuse from my father.

She tolerated my hurricane of an existence, and gave me the strength and encouragement to go on when my emotional lows sunk to lethal depths that were beyond salvation.
She was always my anchor in a sea of chaos.

I had inherited many of my father's wild tendencies and worst traits - all except (thank God) for the insane violence.

I inherited my mother's profound lack of confidence. I always wondered how someone so beautiful, brilliant, and poised could have such low self-esteem. Then I realized that I was her mirror image - only worse. We both had my father to thank for pillaging our self-worth.

My Mom and I shared all the same interests: music, art, literature, history. She was an extraordinary pianist and was also my first piano teacher. She wrote stories and poetry and painted pictures. She had an insatiable quest for learning and was a voracious reader - until she eventually battled macular degeneration and partial loss of eyesight.

My father passed away in 2005. I took care of my mother until she died of a stroke in 2009. It was rewarding to share those final years with her.

I made the Mother's Day video last year, but edited it and tried to shorten it. I'll probably regret posting it, but sentimentality is a large part of my nature.

I hope everyone has a wonderful Mother's Day - generating new memories and treasuring the old ones.

(video is best viewed in full-screen)


  1. I always enjoy the video. I still have my mom and treasure every minute, every second. I'll being seeing this weekend. She's only a fiesty 69 year old, but I most definitely take after her. Treasure your memories this weekend, your mother is never far. Happy Mothers Day to all the Mothers!

  2. This is beautiful, Jon! I bet you treasure the photos of you and your mom together the most of all. What a blessing for you two to have had those final years together. Happy memories!! :)

  3. She was completely glamorous! Such a sense of style in every single photo.
    You did a great job in this tribute Jon. Thank you for sharing it.

  4. Jon: cannot help but be affected by your words, and the aching sense of loss you have shared here. Stay strong, MaggieB

  5. A loving tribute to a lovely lady, Jon. My mother passed away 16 years ago but I too still feel her influence from within.

  6. "Memories that linger, like ghosts dancing on a misty horizon...." Wow, but you've a way of evoking emotions, Jon. This is a splendid tribute to a classy lady.

    I know my mother wouldn't want me to feel sad, but Mother's Day is not something I look forward to every year.

  7. As I've said so many times, your Mother was a beautiful woman, and from what I read from you, inside and out.

  8. There is something about losing ones mother that is permanent and inexpressible - a wound that will never quite heal. We look back on fond memories and we smile even though it hurts. I teared up with this heartfelt tribute to your beautiful mother. The love you both shared for each other shines bright forever. Take care, Jon.

  9. Well,...I guess I've been following you for a year, as I remember some of the photos of your mother. She was beautiful.

  10. That's a beautiful video. I wish I had known your mother, and she looks so elegant and beautifully dressed and had such lovely personal qualities. I know that the pain does not ever really go away.

  11. Very nice Jon. We both were very lucky to have saintly mothers. And you're so right, the loss never goes away. Both my brothers and I still miss our mother so much even today. I felt like part of me died when she died.
    Thank you for your wonderful blog posting about your mom.


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