The offspring returned to the nest to help celebrate Mother's Day. The time spent with them is too full to appreciate all the details while it is happening. Oh my. I breath them in. When they leave they take my oxygen. The quiet wake is left. I linger in the small reminders that remain. Misplaced toys. Fingerprints on the glass.
Oh. This is not melancholy. This is joy. I am happy to be breathless. Breathless and stretched.
All good.
***
You are cordially invited to a tour of my yard flowers, all abloom.
My Daddy amaryllis. There are four trumpets on the one stem.
I have this one positioned so that I see it from my kitchen window and from my laundry room door.
It shouts my Daddy's love every time I pass.
This one I call my "Martin Luther King, Jr." cactus. Some call it "Christmas". Others, "Thanksgiving". But I call it for when it bloomed the most for me. And this year that was on MLK, Jr. Day. This random single bloom was a surprise.
Second quartet of pink amaryllis. Dahlia in the forefront. Something loves to nibble on my dahlias. So I am liberal with the Selvin Dust.
Look what showed her face today!! My day lilies are full, full, full of buds. I think these came from Uncle Dick's yard. They are thriving next to Mr. Macho's shop.
*****
Am still recouping from the back thang. Getting better. I am most appreciative of the painless moments. I find myself celebrating them. Not in a big way. But celebrating, nonetheless.
Peace out.
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