Wopila, Maggie

It came as unexpected gift;

a blessing wholly undeserved.

 

Acrylic, canvas and talent 

capturing spirit and the hint of a smile, 

the twinkle of an eye.

I remember,
with a child's heart,

the rare occasions when a smile would break open -

delight overcoming her awkwardness about less than perfect teeth.

I remember being enveloped by soft brown arms,

resting my blonde curly head on her ample bosom;

not individual breasts but a shelf of comfort;

refuge from the latest injustice inflicted on my tender heart

by careless parents and siblings.

I knew then the old spiritual our church choir sang on Sundays
was wrong -

the bosom of Abraham had nothing to compare to the bosom of Mary.

O rocka my soul!

For a child longing to be part of something bigger than the brokenness she knew,

her embrace was home.

Her face was the first glimpse I ever had of God.

I tried to calculate the odds that led to the paintings creation:

a chance meeting years ago

between a New Jersey born and bred social worker

and a beautiful artist from the Inner Hebrides of Scotland;

a meeting at a barbeque on a Lakota reservation

in a forgotten corner of the plains in South Dakota,

just north of the Nebraska Sandhills.

I quickly stopped the calculations,

not because I'm bad at New Math (although I am),

but because there can honestly be no other explanation 

beyond the timelessness of Gods grace.

My heart filled to overflowing with gratitude for the presence of her in my life - 

the 'her' encompassing both artist and subject.

I marvel at the realization that 

while I only had my great grandmother in my life for a decade - 

much of which I was pre-verbal and inarticulate -

she silently shaped my world
and my soul

with unconditional love

in ways unequaled by anyone else.

I wonder if she knew how much I loved her in return.

I do know that one day -

maybe years from now,

maybe sooner -

when I leave this world to join the ancestors on the other side,

she'll be there waiting for me;

with a twinkle in her eyes 

and a hint of a smile;
ready for the delight in the reunion
to overcome any of our perceived imperfections.

I also know that in her embrace

I'll be home again.