Silent Passage: Painting the Moments We Didn’t Know Were the Last

 Silent Passage

1 June 2025

And Just like that, it’s June! Hello again and welcome.

Some changes in life arrive with fanfare—the first day at 'big school', or the little girl who once asked for help with her homework is suddenly a beautiful bride.

But more often, life shifts in whispers, not shouts. Quietly. Gently. Almost unnoticed.

And it’s only in hindsight that we realise something has passed. That something changed. That it was the last time.

When I painted Silent Passage, I didn’t begin with a clear story in mind. I simply followed the movement of water and the 3 colours I'd selected—soft washes, subtle branches, a quiet landscape unfolding beneath my brush.

But when I stepped back and looked at the finished piece, it stirred something unexpected.

I came to that bittersweet realisation that so many of us can relate to—the way life shifts in whispers, not shouts, until one day we see that everything has changed.

I don’t remember the last time my son sat on my lap. And I didn’t know it was the last. He still came close enough for regular hugs and long chats—but he no longer curled into that space the way he used to. He had outgrown my lap, but of course, the door to my heart remained wide open for conversation, connection, and closeness. Still, at some quiet point, that specific window of tenderness had closed—without either of us realising.

The very next day, I attended a birthday celebration for a friend’s one-year-old. I watched the older children playing and commented on how quickly her sister's teenage son was growing.

Without knowing anything about what I’d been reflecting on the day before, she nodded and said:
“He left for the weekend sounding like a boy… and came back sounding like a man.”
His voice had broken—oh so suddenly.

Her words hung in the air.

She hadn’t known that the last time she heard her child’s little-boy voice… was the last.

That’s what Silent Passage has come to mean for me.
Not just the passing of time, but the subtle endings we only recognise once they’re behind us.

We never know when a moment is waving goodbye.

Silent Passage
by Bev Bernic

You never know the last embrace,
The final laugh, the fleeting place.
Seasons turn with subtle pace,
Leaving memories in their place.

So hold the moment while it stays,
Breathe in the calm of ordinary days.
Let no soft glance or word go spare—
These passing threads are treasures rare.

Don’t wait for bells to sound the sign,
Or whispers breathe, “It’s the last time.”
The now is rich with light and sound,
And love, though quiet, still surrounds.

Because life often whispers- and moves on, art gives me a way to honour those moments. To hold space for what’s passing, even when I didn’t see it go. To turn those invisible goodbyes into something lasting, something seen.

I hope Silent Passage invites you to pause, to notice, to remember.
Not with sadness—but with reverence.

For the now.
For the unnoticed beauty.
For the tiny chapters we only realise have ended after the page has already turned.

I’d love to hear your thoughts and stories if this reflection has resonated with you.

 

Until next time.

With gratitude, Bev