Hi Mom

 May 10, 2020

Hi mom, 

I’ve been working on this for a while now, it’s something you’ve inspired me to do. That was to keep writing. Unfortunately, I am left with an insurmountable amount of editing on this current project. 

  What is “this project?” you ask? I am writing a book. A collection of memories. This one in particular is yours. 

What you’re about to read is raw, it probably could be edited two or three pieces, and it needs finishing. But I want you to read it before it gets to that point. I want you to read it as-is. 

so... 

Happy Mother’s Day to my best friend, my secret keeper and forever chocolate sharer

I hope we can visit sooner - rather then later. I can’t wait!!! 

Love you always, 

- me 

Summer Winds

When I was in my early teens, my parents saved enough money to buy a swimming pool. This was no easy task.  You have to understand, Us getting that pool was a big deal. We had a great big change jar in the kitchen, every day we’d empty our pockets of the days  change and toss them into that big old jar. On weekends we’d return soda cans for 5 cents a can. Everyone chipped in and everything went into it. 

Our town looked down on us so much that this pool became a source of family pride.

For years, my dad meticulously cared for it, Debating Chemicals. Testing chlorine. Shock or super shock?

The pool itself was beautiful. An oval shape, surrounded by a series of wooden planks & stained patios. Dark wood and Leveled decks.

Lush gardens outlined the pool, Brown Eyed Susan’s & DayLilies grew wild. The air was full of fat bumblebees. Mixed in with the wildflowers was another source of pride - My moms most special and ever favorite - Blue Phlox, A  blue flower brought over from Germany. The seeds were planted & handed down, generations of them, passed from relative to relative. Each season growing a bigger and bolder blue, each year the garden grew. The the annuals, perennials, vegetables, berries and fruit.

 My parents would start planning in February, just in time to get the spring pea’s in. March roared with bright yellow forsythia, spring flowers meant small hand tied bouquets of  flowers - Lilly of the valley and daffodils, the summer winds blew in leafy green hosta, tart gooseberries and snap beans. October & fall meant only two things, falling leaves & pumpkins. Autumn was intoxicating, the heavy smell of mulched leaves and apple spice. it was curry and apricots. 

Chocolate and everything was laced with some kind of earthy goodness. Winter storms brought with it a deafening sound of silence. Pine needles and newly fallen snow.  It was clean and fresh, warm blankets and my dads laborious going’s-on with the families only source of heat - the wood stove. 

My parents still live and breathe that garden, something like that doesn’t change. My parents heart was in the garden, my parents heart is that garden. So it doesn’t matter the time of year, you need to only open up a window to know what season it was or ask them, they’ll happily tell you what to grow and when to grow it.