I have been under the weather these last few weeks. When I do get up from my bed I am immediately cheered up by my mom’s two brass lamps.
When I’m feeling especially bad, I keep telling Aly #2 that “I want my mom” and she will know what to say to me immediately when she hears the tone of my voice. That is obviously not an option, since she is deceased, but I have to constantly remind myself of it, though I already feel better sitting in the same room with these brass lamps.
They are floor lamps approximately five-and-a-half-feet tall. I wound up with the first lamp shortly after I moved here to Caroga Lake. She sent this by UPS. Then the lamp wasn’t working. Since these lamps are both halogen, and the lamp mom sent to me at first needed some repair, I called my electrician friend Kevin.
No one else I had taken it to was able to fix it, but Kevin rewired the whole lamp and put a regular light bulb in it. He did a great job complete with a dimmer switch. I could tell my mom loved these lamps till the very end of her life. I saw pictures of her with the lamp standing behind her at the nursing home where she stayed until the very end of her life.
I had my sister, Debbie, who lives in Chicago, send me that beloved lamp my mom had great love for. In that lamp the halogen bulb still works.
And it shines great light throughout my living room and dinning room which is where I sit to write to you guys. These lamps are very artsy in my opinion, not to mention beautiful and unusual. Every night I will have Herman or my aide shut the blinds and turn on my mom’s brass lamps. That way I can end every day thinking about her.
I think because of this, I have been dreaming about my mom a lot lately. It brings me great peace when I spend the nights being with her in my dreams. Although I would love to see her alive and well, I am content with seeing her in my dreams. I remember as a kid reading a book called “To Dance, To Dream.” It was a wonderful tale about dreams and how they might be interpreted. I hope you all have wonderful dreams and memories like I do.
I enclose a photo I have of the lamp that was my mom’s till the end of her life.
Kathryn Spira, a native of Cleveland who pursued an acting career in New York City and Los Angeles, now pursues freelance writing from Caroga Lake, in Fulton County. Previous columns and contact information may be accessed at her website www.kathrynskorner.com. You can also follow her on Facebook under Kathryn Phillips-Spira, where her columns will also be posted.