The old saying goes that any mediocre hit deserves a sequel that drives the franchise into the pavement. And since the last Creepy Art post was, for whatever reason, the most popular thus far, I’m taking a page out of Hollywood’s handbook.
Therefore, I present unto you….
CREEPY ART IS CREEPY: THE SEQUEL!!*
*For those still reading, I swear I don’t go looking for this stuff. It just seems to pop up in public places I frequent.
Which is 9 pounds of awkward.
It’s Mother’s Day, but this year it’s melancholy because Mom passed away last month.
Twenty years of fighting breast cancer ended peacefully at 4am on a Thursday. One moment she was with us. The next she wasn’t.
I could write volumes about how painful it is to lose someone so amazing and vibrant, but honestly, anything I put to paper pales in comparison to the words spoken by others:
“When I think of Lynne Roots, I think of sunshine.
Of big, beautiful turquoise jewelry and pink feathered boas. Of bright, yellow daffodils and Village green.
I think of perfectly cool, crisp Maine morning and hot cups of Katie’s coffee. I think of Family and Friends with a capital “F”.
I think of her amazing heart and loving arms extended. A hug from Lynne was the real deal.
I think of perfectly pedicured toes and Fabulous frocks.
My Mama-Bird Mentor, flocks of froo-froo flamingos and a straight line of adorable, well behaved munchkins.
When I think of Lynne, I picture the wise and kind twinkle in her eyes and imagine her mischievous, “I’d like to see you try it, mister” Southern grin.
When I think of Lynne Roots, my spirit smiles and I bloom.” – Suzie Bailey.
“Lynne died, not from cancer, but from living life to the fullest.” – Pastor John.
Indeed she did. From her early days as an actress with the Dallas Repertory Theater to her later years as a wife, mother, and teacher, she lived every day as if it were her last. The amount of love that poured from her radiated not only throughout the school where she served as librarian, but the entire village where she lived. There is no greater example of this than the overflowing crowd that came for her funeral. And to honor her memory, everyone was decked in pink and cowboy boots.
I miss my Mom. I miss watching DS9 together and going to the local bookstore for our Mother-Son dates. I miss her big laugh, her reproachful gaze when we teased her, and all her funny sayings. I’m sad that her decline was so rapid, barely two weeks, and that her final days were spent asleep. I wish she hasn’t died so close to Mother’s Day and that she wasn’t taken from us by such an awful disease. I am grateful, however, that she was coherent and flamboyant until the bitter end. And I will always carry with me the last words she said to me before falling asleep for good: “Love you, my angel.”
That’s my final memory of her and I will cherish it forever. I’m positive almost everyone who attended her service had a similar one. Her Family with a capital “F” was huge and each and every one of them knew she loved them because she said it and showed it daily.
We can only hope that when we pass, we leave behind a similar legacy of love.
Mom was, at her core, an actress, but her greatest role was that of Wife, Mother, and Friend.
No wonder that her final appearance was to a packed house.
