When I was young, I remember my Mama spending countless hours every year tending to our abundant vegetable garden and the gorgeous flowers that surrounded our home. Every Spring, she would arrive home with a trunk load or more of beautiful flowers of all varieties. I remember playing in the front yard while she was bent over, fingers buried to her forearms in dirt, happily digging and planting. She would usually finish the flower bed that ran along our drive way in one afternoon, because she worked at it until it was just so. She would occasionally take a break to wipe the sweat off her brow or grab a quick drink of water. One thing I remember about those beautiful, sunny Spring days is how absolutely content and happy my Mama was.
When my husband and I bought our first home, Mama and I went out to our local nursery and she helped me choose my own flowers. She and I planted those day lilies together, both of us covered in dirt up to our elbows. I will admit, I don't have the green thumb my mother has. There are only a few that still come up each Spring, but every year when I see the little green heads peaking through our mulch, I think of my sweet Mama.
Last night, Landon and I went to Mama's house for a quick visit. Before we left she asked Landon, "Shall we go out and cut some flowers for you and Mommy to take home?" He was delighted and was right on her heels as she walked around searching, snipping and putting together a lovely bouquet. He held those flowers all the way home.
He loved it and so did I.
This morning when he woke up the first thing he asked for were his flowers. I gave him one and he carried it around until we left.
Thanks, Mama. Not only for the flowers but for the memories we've made and those to come.
