Mom
Today is my mother’s birthday. She would have been 95. As I write this, I’m looking out at her yard. The forsythia is a sunburst surrounded by rays of white daffodils. The hyacinths are pretty in pink – she often said these were her favorite flowers. The walnut trees have tiny leaves on them now. They are a mixed blessing those walnut trees. They provide wonderful shade to the front porch in the summer, but in the fall the fallen walnuts turn the front yard into a danger zone – step on one of those babies and you fly through the air and land on your butt. Their roots are also poisonous to many other plants which is causing no end of havoc to my front yard landscaping plans. Like my parents, I threaten them periodically with being turned into a table.
The lilacs have leaves on them now and will be in bloom by the first week of May. They were gifts from the yard of Bishop and Mrs. Baden. When I last saw Mrs. Baden several years ago she was so pleased to know that those lilacs were still giving us joy.
But best of all – mom’s real favorite – is the clove bush by the back deck. It has just started to bloom with tiny deep yellow flowers that have the most wonderful scent of yes, cloves. Someone, now forgotten to me, gave her this bush when they moved into this house, and she loved it. The bumblebees like it a lot too, and their buzzing chants of happiness add to the spring aura.
John and I are going to walk up to the Old Place today to pick daffodils to put on my parents grave. The Old Place, several miles from here, is where my paternal grand-father was born. It’s about 70 acres of wooded heaven with only two chimneys left standing from the house and kitchen that were there. But it has hundreds of daffodils, and is a family pilgrimage site in the spring. My parents called these daffodils the “old fashioned” kind, but I think a more proper name may be “double daffodils.” Whatever, they’re glorious, with a beauty and strong scent of personality just like mom.
Mom was a spring bouquet of laughter, wisdom, color, opinions, hard work and love. Mostly love. She loved us with a fierceness that continues to sustain me and challenge me to do the same for others. She loved life with this same fierceness, and I can see it as the spring light inflames the forsythia, as the bees and birds sing out the joys of warm weather, and as the smells of new life fill my soul.
But as s a closing tribute I just want to say that she would be flat busted mad at the cancellation of two more day-time soaps – “One Life to Live” and “All My Children.” She called them her stories, and she watched two of them faithfully every day. I can’t remember which two though I bet some of the grandchildren and great-grandchildren can because she allowed them to watch them with her at very young ages. I complained about this when the young child was my own daughter. I remember mom just looking at me, saying nothing, and then turning back to watch the story. My mom was gonna’ do what she was gonna’ do. And that’s part of my why we all loved her to pieces.
Happy birthday!
Happy Birthday, Grandma! We miss you so much.
It was One Life to Live and All My Children. And actually I just looked it up– these are the two shows that are cancelled (Days of Our lives is not cancelled). They are both on ABC. Grandma would always make apologies for the show as we were watching it. “This is pretty silly, isn’t it?” “Now, Ginny, you know never to act like these stupid people, right? It’s just a silly show.” And always, “Don’t tell your mother you watched this.” One Life to Live was her first addiction and she got into All My Children only because it came on right after. Or at least that’s what she told me!
Miss you every day, Grandma. Happy Birthday!
And, just to set the record straight, from a fellow “story” watcher and “friend of Grandma’s”, Days of Our Lives (on NBC) was her #1. All My Children was on ABC at 1:00, followed by One Life to Live at 2:00 and General Hospital at 3:00. Sad/scary that I remember all of that! Whenever I called Grandma I was careful to call after Days of Our Lives was over so as not to interrupt.