I made an angel. Created her out of clay. Painstakingly I sculpted and moulded her. I loved her. I loved her heavy wings, they way they sheltered her and protected her heart. I loved that tiny heart, the way she looked down on to it "I will always look after you" she whispered, "you are safe".
"Mum?? Aren't you mad? Why are you smiling? Are you OK????"
Yes I was ok. Better than ok. My angel was free. No longer requiring the shelter of those heavy wings. Her heart sat open and unprotected, however it was free to feel, to be seen and to be loved, just as it was.
"I can recreate her" I explained to son. "I can put her head back on, create new lightweight wings, wings of many colours, wings that fly! Her heart will be in the open, on her knee where it will lead her in a new direction."
"But what about her broken body?" son asked.
I will glue her body back together and then I will highlight that crack. Her cracked and broken body will be the most beautiful part of all!
And so it is that new work begins on my angel and it is with great appreciation and gratitude that I hold her shattered pieces, the fragments of what was, gathered in my hands. Excitement grows as I imagine and create her anew... bright, open and free.
Until the day she broke.
My son rang me on my way home. His voice was shaky, apprehensive. "Something terrible has happened" he mumbled. Moving straight into mother mode, I panicked. "What is it?? Are you ok??"
"I broke her...I didn't mean to... she fell...I tried to catch her...I wasn't quick enough"
Oh My god... who?, where? What the??????
"Your angel mum... she smashed!!" The poor boy. He knew I loved her, created her, protected her.
But the sense of relief was instant. Just a sculpture, not a life, a girl or an animal. Just a sculpture. It wasn't long however that the realisation of what had just occurred hit me. My angel.
On arriving home I inspected the damage. Son had attempted a clean up of the crime scene so as not to upset me. Her wings were gone. A thousand fragments, unceremoniously swept up into a plastic bag. Head severed, body cracked, heart open and unprotected.
I just smiled.
"Mum?? Aren't you mad? Why are you smiling? Are you OK????"
Yes I was ok. Better than ok. My angel was free. No longer requiring the shelter of those heavy wings. Her heart sat open and unprotected, however it was free to feel, to be seen and to be loved, just as it was.
"I can recreate her" I explained to son. "I can put her head back on, create new lightweight wings, wings of many colours, wings that fly! Her heart will be in the open, on her knee where it will lead her in a new direction."
"But what about her broken body?" son asked.
I will glue her body back together and then I will highlight that crack. Her cracked and broken body will be the most beautiful part of all!
And so it is that new work begins on my angel and it is with great appreciation and gratitude that I hold her shattered pieces, the fragments of what was, gathered in my hands. Excitement grows as I imagine and create her anew... bright, open and free.
So very beautiful Sis
ReplyDeleteLove you
Amazing Denise. New wings will look good on you.
ReplyDeleteAmazing Denise. New wings will look good on you.
ReplyDeleteI love this DENISE!
ReplyDeleteJUde x
Made me cry tears of happiness, love you and your words of wisdom ��
ReplyDeleteA perfect ending for a new beginning....I like the cracks that life brings us too... Thank you for sharing your angel story she is special! ��
ReplyDeleteThanks Denise - I'm really enjoying reading your gentle articles on your blog and in Healing Times.
ReplyDeleteThank you. It is my goal to help others through my own understanding of life. I am so very glad that my writing is having a positive effect. :)
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