I debated writing this post on Shadow Pearls instead of here since it certainly would be fitting as I recorded those days on that blog when I had full care of her. Those days of grace, those days of hard places, those days that while they were lingeringly long, yet were not long enough.
First thing this morning I sat down with my coffee and wrote the date and the memory of her opened a door wide, it was just as if I had stepped into the "land of OZ". It bursted of color that only a mother can give, her voice was clearly spoken in my ear, and I saw myself as one looking at a photograph book going back years from my childhood right up to that time thirteen years ago. Truthfully, it then occurred to me why she had been so prevalent in my thoughts all week.
But that tug of missing her grabbed deep too. There is no wonder that I was able to convince my husband to take a drive to a local nursery where the purchase of a lilac bush made the most sense. She died during the days of blooming lilacs so in my way of thinking I should have a blooming lilac in my yard. Isn't it beautiful?
It will be a long time before I am able to forget my mother as she is this summer, and remember her as she used to be.
The Summer of the Great-Grandmother
Madeleine L'Engle
