Ruth Voisin
It was twenty years ago today that my mother died suddenly. I often wish I could speak with her again. But time is healing my loss and it’s fun to reminisce every now and then.
She collected old lithographs with a theme depicting a bluebird on a tree branch with a little girl gazing up, usually looking out a window. They reminded her of one by Bessie Pease Gutmann that her mother had. Of course this morning a couple bluebirds happened by my backyard. Every time I see one now I chuckle and think to myself it’s mom saying hi.
Mom’s the one who got me interested in genealogy. She often said that I come from “good stock” and spoke of how strict and clean my German ancestors were. Even though my grandmother’s pantry had a dirt floor, it was always swept and “clean.”
Not to get too mushy, but I keep in mind a star to represent loved ones who have died. That way, no matter how busy or preoccupied I am, I’m always reminded of them when I see that star at night. (It helps that I can identify dozens of stars and constellations.)
Mom’s star is Sirius in Canis Major. She asked me one night on the balcony of a condo in which we were vacationing at Gulf Shores, Alabama, what that bright object was hovering over the ocean. I explained that it was Sirius, the brightest star in the sky, and that it even has a companion star that orbits it.
So some time after she died I was looking up at Sirius and reminisced about that moment. To this day I am reminded of her when I see Sirius. Wouldn’t you know it, Sirius also crosses the meridian (it’s highest point in the sky) annually at about 10pm CST this day. So tonight when I walk the dog, I’ll look up to Sirius, the brightest jewel in the sky and say, “Here’s to you Mom!”
