Our older son, Lars, says it casually, smiling.
His words warm me. I usually feel sidelined and irrelevant to his generation, a nuisance really.
Four years ago, I consciously began to withdraw from the world, narrowing my focus to those things I need to do before I die. Now my son is inviting me to venture into cyberspace.
I begin cautiously at his blog, “Bottles & Bones” at blogspot.com. The title memorializes items Lars and Kerrie found in the land they bought from her parents to build their home in the woods.
This semi-scary adventure led them to blog. From their familiar terrain, I find my way to the button that says: GET YOUR OWN BLOG.
My blog requires a name. I decide to sleep on it.
Lying in bed the next morning, I search my subconscious to see if a name is emerging. She appears, not merely a name, but a presence: Maud.
Already I have lived almost twice as long as Maud had in 1914, when she died at 31, along with her fourth baby. Two other children survived. The older one, who was 5, would become my mother.
Lars, an illustrator who specializes in ghouls and monsters, found Maud's large portrait in its gilt frame too spooky to bear. If he was home alone, he would turn it to the wall.
He says: "She keeps staring at me!"
A-ha! I laugh. Thank you, Maud.
I relent and put her in the closet. She does not hold it against me. Nor does she stay there. She knew cyberspace before we did.
Her name calls up in me a sense of ineffable kindness and hope. So we are making this journey together as Phil takes pictures and helps us reflect on larger meanings.
We'll be right here if you want to come visit Maud & Me!
