Straight from the heart . . .

Straight from the heart . . .

Little blue flowers in a mason jar.

I walked among the flowers yesterday.  Their fragrance and beauty brought back memories of a simpler time in life.  A time when I was young, running through a field of simple blue flowers with one idea in mind.

 

Mamma.  I would pick as many of these blue flowers as my little hands could carry and run into the kitchen where Mamma always seemed to be.   She would hug and kiss me with delight and then pull down an old mason jar, fill it with water, to proudly display her bouquet.

 

I was much older when I learned that my little blue flowers were weeds.  But to Mamma and me, they were a spring bouquet that symbolized a treasured love between us.

 

So, I took some time yesterday from my perfectly-synchronized errands to literally stop and smell the roses, and everything else in bloom at a local nursery.  For a moment, I just stood and closed my eyes and thought of Mamma and those little blue flowers.  On days when I'm missing Mamma more than usual, this is my therapy.

 

My mother has lots of sayings and one of my favorties has always been, "If folks don't bother sending me flowers while I'm alive, then don't do it when I'm dead and can't enjoy them."   I continue the tradition of making sure Mamma has flowers on special occasions, especially Mother's Day.  Even though I can afford beautiful bouquets of every kind in delicate vases, I would love to walk into a field, pick her some little blue flowers and place them in a mason jar for her kitchen window sill.

 

As a mother, and now grandmother,  I know so well that it is the small, loving gestures that touch your heart.  When one of our granddaughters hand me a "flower" picked from the yard, or a rock that "I need," or color me yet more refrigerator art, I know these are the things I will treasure when they are all grown.

 

Love you, Mom!

 

 

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