When I was little and it was cold outside, I would sometimes go into my parents’ bathroom and sit up against the radiator there to warm up. I often did so early in the morning while my mom was getting ready for the day, putting on her makeup and styling her hair. I enjoyed watching and chatting with her, as well as the coziness.
It was during one of those conversations, when I was 10, that I vividly recall inquiring about whether Santa was real and sharing my three theories. Mom kindly listened to each and confirmed whether I “really wanted to know,” before breaking it to me that one of my suspicions was indeed correct.
For much of my life I have enjoyed looking out windows, especially in the bedrooms and bathrooms of the homes I’ve lived in, noticing so many beautiful and interesting things about the world outside.
Mom was the first person in our family to notice and comment that the leaves on a tree (which I think is an Eastern Redbud) in the back of/just behind our house here in Evanston, grow heart shaped. I loved that she pointed that out and often thought of her observation going forward.
Since Mom died in July looking at the leaves have brought me some peace and comfort, as I grieve and reflect on memories of her and our relationship, including how much Mom loved me and so many others who were special to her.
This autumn, as the leaves have been falling from the trees, I have appreciated watching that tree change. In recent days I noticed one leaf on the tree in particular, which definitely looks like a heart, that has yet to come down. The leaf just happens to be right outside our primary bathroom window. More and more have continued to break off all around the leaf, but it remains. Every time I enter our bathroom I try to remember to check and see if it is there and, so far, it is still hanging on.
A few days ago I started snapping photos of it at different times of day, after inadvertently discovering a way to zoom in and get my phone’s camera to somehow mostly erase the screen on the window in the photo (not sure how or why it works and I’ll take it).
Of course this heart shaped leaf makes me think of Mom, and in some ways, when I gaze out at it, while I am getting ready for my day in the morning or for bed at night, I imagine Mom is here with me, only now our stations are reversed. The window in our bathroom is located just above a radiator, as it was in my parents’ bathroom on Isabella Street, and it even has privacy shutters on it, as theirs did. Often as I look at the leaf the wind will blow it around, which also makes me feel as if Mom is motioning to/connecting with me in some magical way.
I have an old friend from Evanston whose dad died over 20 years ago and our shared experiences with grief and loss have deepened our connection over the years. She often posts photos with the caption #finditeverything when she comes across the shape of a heart anywhere/in anything, as she goes about her day to day life. I took that practice on not long after I noticed her doing it and learned, through the hashtag, it is something many others find joy and meaning in.
When someone we have been really close with dies, it is natural to think about them often. For me it has been nearly constant for the last four months. Along with Bob, Sean and Gail, Mom was one of my absolute favorite people to talk, hang out and spend time with. We had so much in common and also challenged each other to consider different perspectives.
Mom was passionate about social justice and the first person to suggest I read Michelle Alexander’s The New Jim Crow: Mass Incarceration in the Age of Colorblindness after she finished it. Alexander’s book was a game changer for me, as it has been for so many, and was one of the catalysts to my ongoing anti-racist/abolitionist journey and activism.
I miss my mom so much and allowing myself to feel how that feels is often painful. I am also learning that looking for and finding her in everything, as my friend taught me to do with hearts, is meaningful to and working for me.
Finding my mom in nature, which she loved to spend time in and admired, is comforting. This particular heart shaped leaf, on a tree that Mom enjoyed looking at when she was visiting our home/spending time in our backyard for meals and/or to hang out, has been extra special for me this week, as we approach the four month milestone since she died on Monday.
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