Gwynneth Myrtle Horn (nee Davey) 8 September 1936 – 15 April 2010
This little poem was written late one night a few months before my darling Mom passed away. The words flowed into my awareness and I felt like they were spoken to me from the Soul of my Mom in preparation for her Leaving. (Written 14th February 2010. Gwynny passed away 15th April
When you Find me Rested in my Chair
From the Soul of my Mom
When you find me rested in my chair,
Sit beside me quietly there,
As you offer up a final prayer.
Let it be filled with thanks for gifts of Love
To touch my Soul that’s just above.
And even though my pulse is no longer there
Know my Soul’s embrace is everywhere
Some tears may fall, for you my child –
But let these words to your Heart say,
Your Mother loved you in Every Way.
The song of life continues in your smile
Now you hold the journey that makes Life worthwhile.
You see, it matters not that we have aged,
What’s important is that we played.
The parting now may be filled with yearning
Still we danced through this life journey –
Somehow needing one another for our Spirit’s Learning.
So as you say goodbye to that part of me that is no more,
Embrace the Soul that now lifts and soars.
It is without a doubt, I know,
That we shall meet again when it is your time to let go.
Our souls shall once again be reconciled
And you will see the Love Light in my smile.
Remember only the best of me,
And forgive the parts of my human frailty.
My child, I say to you with all my heart,
That in this Life, loving you was the very best part.
Until then, my beloved one, I’ll watch over you and hold you dear,
I am always near.
She is Gone
You can shed tears that she is gone,
Or you can smile because she lived,
You can close your eyes and pray that she will come back,
Or you can open your eyes and see all that she has left.
Your heart can be empty because you can’t see her
Or you can be full of the love that you shared,
You can turn your back on tomorrow and live yesterday,
Or you can be happy for tomorrow because of yesterday.
You can remember her and only that she is gone
Or you can cherish her memory and let it live on,
You can cry and close your mind be empty and turn your back,
Or you can do what she would want: smile, open your eyes, love and go on.
‘For his anger endureth but a moment; in his favour is life: weeping may endure for a night, but joy cometh in the morning’
Like the beads of shiny dew drops delicately held on a spider web in morning light, so we each show the prism of our potential self.
As one drop we shine and as many we create a chandelier of dancing light.
The fine spun web -almost invisible – becomes seen as the drops sparkle their pathways. Yet seen or not, still it is there, the web, holding even the smallest capsule of contained dew.
Let the rain fall, let the day shift, as it is in the change of events that we notice we are Held.
When we See we Shine.Joy Truscott 2011
My sister, Lynda and I had a wonderful day visiting Oude Libertas and Delheim wine estates. We picniced on the lawn with beautiful people, laughing children and lazy dogs. What a wonderful vibe! The food was utterly delicious at Oude Libertas market and I sketched a family sitting on the lawn in front of us. Clive and Ann were celebrating Clive’s 60th birthday with their family.
We drove to Delheim to sit in the peaceful gardens, and gingerly escaped the “loving” beak attention of the triplet geese -Pate’ or was it Foie or Gras, kindly named by Lynda. The sketch was made on the lawn keeping our eyes alert to any goose subterfuge.
I want to live in Franschoek or Stellenbosch.
Walking on the beach I see the footsteps forming behind my path. I look back and see that the line of steps is not in a straight line, even though I thought I was walking a direct route. The pathway curves gently around the slight impressions of the sand mounds. I was not even aware that I had been following the contours of the earth.
I walk now with a sense of purpose, placing each foot gently on the earth. Where the sand is hard and unyielding the steps are barely visible and where the sand is soft, I see my mark pressed into the ground. I understand that the world can be like the sand. Soft and yielding at times, allowing me to leave an impression that is well formed and noticeable. At other times, the earth is hard and unrelenting. I have still travelled that way yet the mark I leave is known only to me, so slight is it.
The wind blows towards me and lifts my hair and my spirits, bringing in the smell of the ocean. The breath of life. I breathe it in through my nostrils, recharging my energy and my soul. The wind dances on the sand and lifts the edges from the footprints, smoothing the indentations and sometimes covering them up entirely. Still, I know that I walked that way.
I stop to see, to breathe, to rest a while. My prints are behind me and not yet made ahead of me. I see the expanse of clear sand washed beach and feel the tingle of anticipation realizing that the steps I am to take from this moment on are the ones I wish to make. From this point of pause I can decide which direction I choose to walk; how firmly I intend to place my feet; how far I intend to take myself along the route.
All the while around me the air is changing; the wind the light, and the scenery. It might be the same place it was moments before, but now it looks different. I am aware of the ever-changing, moving and shifting of the atmosphere. As I walk, I adjust my jacket to shield me from the cooling air. I adjust me. The scene will always change. How can I possibly think that it will stay the same? I am not the same. I make the changes in me that allow me to stay in the changing scene. I move myself across the path, following the curves and avoiding the beach debris. Before, I never considered how amazing this ability within me actually is. Now I am aware and grateful. So much goes on within me that I am unconscious to.
What an amazing, resilient being I am!
At times I look down and find treasures along the path. Tiny, beautifully formed shells in vivid colours. Fragile and perfect, until an idle step shatters them. Some things will not survive on our walk through life. We are bound to fracture something along the way. Nature forgives by supplying abundance. I give thanks for the abundance. I forgive generously and earnestly.
I look up and see the expanse of sky. Even the horizons are not the end. There is more. So much more. I could feel small and unseen in the vastness, but I feel held and loved. I am part of this wondrous creation and loved as much as the tiniest shell. I see the purpose and the plan for even the smallest of creatures. Each life interlocking in exquisite precision. Without one, the cycle cannot sustain itself. I long to have all of mankind see this picture; this connection.
The wind has blown patterns in the sand. The bits of drift wood hold similar patterns. The sand ploughs weave their hieroglyphic messages in the wet sand. There is a pattern for all beings. We are part of an intricate tapestry. The thread that holds us all together is the breath of life. We are encapsulated in the same pod of earth. Sustained by the same light and Source.
The reflections of the mountains and the clouds shine in the water washed beach. The earth reflects the sky. The sky reflects the earth. Heaven and Earth. Ying and Yang, Good and Difficult. Ease and Challenge. It is all one. The separation is in our seeing of it.
I turn to walk back, my footprints still showing along some of the journey. I try to walk inside my step. My haltering steps are laboured. I cannot place my feet in the same mark without walking backwards and looking over my shoulder. This is ridiculous and makes me laugh. I stumble and fall. In life why would I consider trying to retrace my old steps? They do not fit me anymore. I cannot walk them with the same sense of trust and ease. I have to concentrate so much on each step in order to “get it right”, that I cannot enjoy the journey. The unrealistic expectation could leave me disappointed and unfulfilled, if this was a serious walk-for-life.
Luckily for me, I can choose to even dance some of the way. I step and leap, swirl and sway, leaving a myriad of different prints to show the movement of flow and ease. My spirits are lifted and I feel as light as the seagulls that swoop overhead. I have moved a great distance and haven’t even been aware of labour. My dancing feet have freed me from the stilted, restricted, concentrated, self-imposed labouring walk. I choose to dance more.
It is the end of the meander now and I look back over the path and feel a sense of light and satisfaction for giving myself this time of life. I have moved over rocks, hard and soft sinking sand, and I have adjusted to each change and moved on. The wind has blown and it has been hot at times. Still, I danced and laughed and I will keep on dancing and laughing, even when my footprints can no longer be seen by others. I know that I have participated regardless of the visible impression left behind. That has made all the difference to me.
Inspired and written after a cleansing, healing walk on the beach outside my Mom and Dad’s home in JBay x Joy x