Painted Floral Synchronicity

A lot of the past week has dealt with the disposition of Mum's worldly possessions. Even on the day she passed, we left the hospital with armloads of things we had brought to make her room feel homier, as well as the floral arrangements, Christmas baskets and cards sent by people who wanted Mum to know she was being thought of (which she was aware of, and grateful for).

We had brought in a canvas print of a pool-playing chihuahua that Mum had bought at a silent auction for Glory's dance school two or three years ago. It was a pretty whimsical piece, and unlike anything that had adorned her walls prior to that point, so we were all pretty surprised when she gleefully brought it back to the table after winning it.

Mum displayed her prize prominently in the den she had converted into a sitting room at Tara and Jerry's place while she was living there, and on the main wall of her living room when she moved into her apartment. Not exactly a masterpiece, but it brought a smile to the face of most people who saw it, and if it didn't, Mum couldn't be fussed. Hanging it in Mum's rooms at the Leduc Hospital with a couple of command hooks brightened the place up a bit, and made a few of the nurses smile as well.

When Mum moved to the larger, palliative room last Sunday, the picture came with us. Glory removed the somewhat generic floral painting from the wall, placed it carefully on a nearby table and hung the dog in its stead.

After Mum passed and Audrey and the girls joined Tara and me, we all stayed in the room together for quite some time. When we finally reached the point where we were comfortable leaving, we began packing up the items in the room.

As Glory took down Nanny's dog picture and put the floral painting back on the wall, she called us over; "Hey, did you guys see this?"

"Uh, yeah, it was on the wall when we came in," someone said, hesitantly.

"No, look at the signature," Glory insisted.

At the University Hospital in Edmonton a couple of weeks prior, Mum (who the girls call Nanny), had been in a room just down the hall from a painting called "Nan's Lilies," which I had found quaintly coincidental. Discovering a painting signed "Nan" only hours after Mum's passing in the same room upgraded that sensation to kind of eerie. Not offputting or supernaturally significant per se, but evocative of the concept of synchronicity - "meaningful coincidence."

Nanny loved flowers almost as much as dogs; I'm strangely grateful that the pool-playing chihuahua has made its way home with the girls, even if I'm unsure where it will end up.