This happens every Mother's Day weekend. I count. Sixteen years. I will always count. For some reason this year feels as if it were just yesterday. I don't know why. It could have something to do with the fact that I am this much closer to her age when she left.
During my spring cleaning, I came across an old video camera we'd used when we recorded our wedding. Mom was there. She was seven months away from her last breath. If we'd known then . . .
I opened the camera. No film. I have no idea where it is. I'm more organized than that sounds. I am sure it's in one of the "those" boxes. How the film got separated from the camera, I have no idea. I'd love to hear her voice one more time. It's faded, the voice memory.
A strange thing happened when I visited my sister and we were flipping through The Family Photo Albums. There was this living room with these absolutely gorgeous plants--everything you can imagine--pristine foliage, decorative pots arranged just so. And this yard--a beautiful, meticulously planted and tended-to yard. I said, "I don't remember this part. . . all of this plant-tending? Where was I?" My sister said, "You know mom had the greenest thumb of all, right?" Somehow I didn't. Or I'd forgotten. Or had moved on.
She was amazing with animals, too. This is her with "Bobby". The horse she taught me to ride and to show. I remember how much she loved that horse.
I think she would have loved my garden. Somehow it looks its best about this time of year. No drought or pestilence yet.
I've spent the better part of the last two weeks in and out of my garden. I have the injuries to prove it. This week was the crescendo. All is planted.
Those that were nearly dead and gone last year after the horrendous summer have somehow re-emerged, virtually unscathed. I'm amazed. Plants are fighters.
Lamb's ears. Love these.
Look at that tarragon! The stuff is ridiculous.
Babies being babied.
Babies going into the big wide world.
Cut and plant. My kind of gardening.
Seedlings: You're on your own.
This weekend I'm reading Maya Angelou's Mom & Me & Mom. I heard her interviewed on Diane Rehm earlier this week. I cannot tell you how much the interview lifted my spirits. An amazing story. I could hardly wait to sink into my chair this weekend and read. It did occur to me that reading a memoir about "A Mother" might have the wrong effect. Nothing could be further from the truth.
I am truly loving this book.
Mom memories and all.
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