While growing up my mother occasionally allowed me to stay home from school when I’d burned my bridges at both ends. I didn’t have to fake an illness if I asked to have a day off. I never took advantage of my mother in this matter, grateful for the ‘time out’ she allowed. When I look at Lisa Martin’s painting of this charming little girl reading in bed, surrounded by her favorite things, it connects me to memories: propped up in bed, comforted by my things, sleeping and catching up with myself. My mother’s understanding of what was needed was an act of love. If I close my eyes and return to the bedroom of my childhood, to high school days when a busy life could be exhausting, those times of playing hooky were sweet and cherished….my mother standing by. I, in turn, extended that possibility to my children when needed. Why do I feel the world was a gentler place then and children were allowed to be children? I’m thankful that was how it was for me. If you would like to see more images of Lisa Martin’s art work you can link to my Pinterest board of her work.
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