I made a whirlwind trip back to the Midwest this weekend. My parents are living in Missouri and I haven’t seen them in forever. To boot - my mom, who is an excellent textile artist, had a solo art exhibit in one of the local art galleries that I wanted to go see. My mom has exhibited her art in several galleries in England, none of which I’ve been able to go see. So since this was her first exhibit in the States, it was a “must-do” trip.
As I walked around and looked at all of her pieces, the thing that kept coming to mind was that I didn’t know my mom had this in her. She never did work like this when I was growing up. The extent of her “textile work” was sewing clothes for my older sister and I because we simply couldn’t afford to buy clothes off the rack. And yet, as I looked at her pieces, it was clear she was born to do this. As I listened to her talk about her pieces - what inspired her, how the creative process worked for her - I realized that this was a dream that my mom had for years, but never believed she was good enough to do. But, as a woman about to turn 60, she finally stepped out of her uncertainty and launched down the path of creativity.
I have watched my mom sacrifice so much over the years - she never got a college degree, try as she might, because she had to work full-time to get my dad through college, and pay the bills. She never got to wear nice clothes - we were regulars in the local thrift and consignment shops. She never got to live in a nice house - for most of my life we lived in a cruddy, cockroach-infested apartment because it was the very best we could afford. The only real textile project she had the time or the money for was cross-stitching. And as you can imagine, those projects were still incredible.
I am on my way home, now. And as I sit and stare out the window at the planes coming and going, waiting for mine to show up, what I think is…knowing your dreams is one thing. Patiently waiting to see them realized is quite another. Many people would never have waited as long as my mom has. At some point we give up. We throw our hands in the air and declare an end to our effort, saying, “it’s not worth it anymore.” And now, after seeing the end result of one who so patiently waited - 40 years of waiting, to be exact - it leaves me feeling determined that those things I dream about and hope for are still within my reach and realm of possibility. It may be a LONG time before it does come about, but I choose to believe that it’s never too late. And if I start to question that, I’ll look again to my mom and remember all that she’s gone through to get to the place in life she’s enjoying today.
