DAY 589

in {and out} Week 24: New

Seeing that someone else is doing what my mother used to do so well in the past triggered contradictory sentiments in me. Those sentiments appear in particular, when I see how the things she used to use have to be replaced because they are too old or are not functional anymore: the table mats, the towels, the bedspreads, the lines where she hung the clean washing to dry, the clothespins.

When I am back home and I find those new things instead of the old ones my heart aches. It happens every single time. I long for the old objects (even the simplest ones), I long for  the old pace and the old routines. I long for the person my mother used to be... even when I adore the person who is right now.

After almost three years, I still feel new to this situation,  I still feel new to my role because I haven't come to this place and position (according to which I am responsible for taking care of my mother and for supervising her caregivers) till recently. After almost three years I still feel new to those feelings, to this new way of living which indeed it is not.

I know this is not bad, that thanks to all this she (and my brother) are having such a peaceful and joyful time. I know that it is only a new stage which is different from the former one but not worse, that it has its own beauty.

I know it... but my heart (which is new at it) experiences a dull pain every time I have to tackle a new change. My silly, silly heart cringed when saw a lonely wooden clothespin almost forgotten among the plastic ones.

And even so, I opted for capturing the bright, blue intruder because it is the sign of the new order of things. And I honor it.

I honor it.

This entry is part of a project I am developing with my friend Montse Gallardo. We'll share a photo every week during 2015. Her photos will be always taken outside and my photos will be indoor shots only. We have created a Facebook page: In and Out. 52 weeks where you can see all the photos of the project.