Have you ever been on the receiving end of ladybug love? It’s the delight you feel when you discover one climbing up your leg or resting on a leaf. You can check in here anytime you need to relive that pleasure. My Mom’s ladybug is for everyone to enjoy. She painted it forty years ago and it became her iconic signature. The message is simple yet powerful, just like her ~ It’s All About Love. This story tells the tale of my parents best loving efforts as the result of a traumatic event that happened to me when I was a baby.
I am fortunate I was born into a loving family. My father was a dedicated family man, intelligent, educated, driven, and not afraid to speak the truth. Sometimes it was only his truth though. My Mom quietly loved us all, listened to our woes, and chimed in when asked. Otherwise she masterfully took care of business.
Over the years Dad kicked up some spectacular drama with his fearlessness, something one might not expect from a man profoundly deaf since the age of 4, when measles claimed his auditory nerves. He was the counterpoint to my Mom’s solid, calm spirit. As a teenager the only way I could respond to Dad was by stomping off and slamming the door in utter frustration. We did not give each other a break for a long time, but signs of a cease-fire emerged in his later years.
Dad’s poetic spirit did inspire me, and I knew he loved me even though it was not always obvious. In his late eighties Dad wistfully shared his envy of my spiritual explorations, then declared me a mystic. He said he wished he had more time. With this I felt a deeper connection for the first time.
