The 2023 100 Day Project has officially come to an end. I wanted to share with you what I experienced during the last 100 days. It's really amazing all that can transpire during that amount of time.
Emotionally the timing of this was very difficult. It encompassed the anniversary of the date my Mom got diagnosed with pancreatic cancer. The date we learned it was inoperable. The 7 traumatic weeks leading up to her death. Her death. Her Birthday. Her celebration of life service. The anniversary of the first holiday without her, Easter. My Dad’s 80th Birthday and Mother’s Day.
Besides painting every day, or nearly every day for the past 100 days, We traveled out of state twice, we had overnight guests 3 times. I experienced a freak accident, where I was hit in the back by an 8 ft long, flying table, at a party. No broken bones, but badly bruised and I couldn’t raise my right arm over my head for almost two weeks. I had pleurisy (lung inflammation, probably caused by being hit so hard in the back and ribs). I then experienced an allergic reaction to the steroids I was put on. I homeschooled, drove kids all over, cooked for 7-10 people daily, washed millions of dishes, planted a garden, dealt with dozens of Dr. appointments. Became toxic to another medication I was on, causing extreme leg pain, weakness and neuropathy. Then once going off that, I had a severe autoimmune flare that left me barely able to walk these last few weeks. Basically it was chaos and a physically nightmarish couple of months. Unreal!
At this point you may be wondering why I bothered sticking with it.
I did it because I needed to. Although I appreciated all the likes and comments on instagram, I didn’t do it for that. I did it for me. I did it for my Mom. I did it because she lived a beautiful life and strived every day to add more beauty to this world. I did it because I needed to remember that. I needed to remember all the good and beautiful things about her. I needed to honor her, speak her name and share her with all of you.
I had been in this cycle of ruminating on and reliving the trauma that surrounded her sudden diagnosis and illness, and I needed to break that cycle. Painting helped me do that. At first I was very aware of the anniversary dates as they came and went, it was a struggle to paint, especially something happy, but I found that as time passed, I stopped focusing on what I had lost and started focusing more on the memories. When I started sharing those memories each day on Instagram, It filled me with gratitude for who she was. I started to remember all the great and fun times we had, and it made me look forward to painting the next day. I asked family members what made them think of Mom/Grandma and I created a list of things to paint. I honestly never ran out of ideas, in fact I still have 15-20 things on that list that I never even got to.
These 100 days have been some of the most difficult, demanding, painful, personal and profound I've ever experienced. I typically don’t talk about my feeling so publicly, but I did and I am, because grief is rarely talked about, yet at some point, we all experience it . I wanted to normalize talking about it. Grief has no timeline. It’s not something you can just “get over”. The reality of grief is ugly, but I wanted…or rather, needed…to create something beautiful out of it.
In the end, I can honestly say I feel more at peace. This practice of remembering has helped me to move beyond just focusing on the trauma and the loss. I feel so blessed to have the Mom I had, and to have been given the time I had with her. I feel blessed that she passed her artistic ability and love of all things beautiful on to me.
This was a HUGE undertaking and I feel such a sense of accomplishment that I persevered, even through some extremely difficult challenges. Now, I have a really unique and meaningful piece of art to show for it! It’s something that will always remind me of my mom and this journey.
Thank you for following along and for cheering me on. It meant the world to me and I appreciate you.
If you are struggling with grief and the loss of a loved one and you need a listening ear, I just want you to know that I'm here. I see you. You are not alone. I may not know you personally, but I know the pain and struggle of walking through grief and I’ll be praying for you.