There are certain things in spring
that make my heart sing
and certain things
that tear at strings
like a silver birch
or a solitary snowdrop
and the memories they bring
solemn raindrops adorn the bare tree branches
like bejewelled tears.
The sun peaks out and smiles wanly
at the confused pink flowers
which have emerged so late in the day…
How soon will the cold kill them,
turning their girlish blush into brown rot?
Memories creep closer like Christmas.
Loss hangs at the back of my throat—
waiting to pounce!
Last week, after a vivacious spring day of intense showers interspersed with golden sunshine pouring through steely grey clouds, I snuck out while my kids were having their bedtime snack to drink in the early evening glory of the garden.
I love the peppery purple scent of lupins…they always make me think of high school graduation because they were blooming abundantly in our back yard when I was finishing grade 12. We took pictures of me in my velvet green ( :> !) grad dress in front of a pink, purple and blue sea of lupins in our garden.
Everything is glorious after the rain…the delicate ferns curling their fingers artistically…the billowy cotton candy clouds that look so bouncy and fluffy you could surely dance on them, if you could only get up there….the little pansy playing peekaboo underneath the blooming thyme bush.
Is it any wonder, with a garden like this (I take no credit; it’s my green-thumbed and maybe even fingered landlord) that taking out the compost is my favourite chore?
Wishing you all a beautiful Mother’s Day Weekend, with many flowers and gorgeous sunsets!
Some people think they know about pennies…
shiny bright little things that make children happy
and help them dream dreams of being big,
the kind of thing you carry in your pocket
just for luck.
But they know nothing of richness
of real treasure
unless they know my Penny.
My Penny is worth a million bucks.
She is the kind one whose eyes I can see twinkle
even over the phone as I call, yet again, to say,
“So, are you bored without me?”
She is the one who makes me tea
when I arrive in a fluster
of post-transit with kids business
and sit my big belly down
in the office sofa seat.
She is the one who knows,
(6 babies later)
everything about me,
and with her magic spinning wheel
tells me when the latest Eastland will arrive.
She is the one who gives the kids stickers—
their favourite part—
besides getting to push the Doppler button
and hearing the new babies heartbeat,
and certainly reason enough
for them to request a new sibling
every year or two…
So my beautiful, wonderful Penny
know how much you are loved
and that you will always be
part of the birth story of all my children,
and more than that,
ever a part of our family.
If you promise to come
and have tea with us at our house
we will even give you a sticker!
There’s a misty werewolf moon tonight
and it reminds me of a poem I wrote you
just over 6 months ago
before you were born,
while you were still with us.
The stars twinkle reassuringly
in the cold night sky,
but the gloominess of this moon
covered in snatches of thin clouds
like scattered veils,
brings me to tears.
Perhaps it shines brighter from your side
—up in Heaven—
with no clouds in the way.
One day, honey, promise you’ll show me.