May ... Mother's ... Memories

Our roses died.

Our neighbors to the east planted trees a few years back that have not blessed our small rose garden, so we had been contemplating moving the flowers to another area with more sunshine. But that isn't the reason for their demise.  Nor was it caused by an "extreme"  winter.   Apparently it was just the timing of an early frost in the winter and a late frost in the spring. The honeysuckle on the north fence also succumbed, as did many small perennials that I will tally once I compare the survivors to a panorama photograph from last summer.

The loss of one particular apricot colored rose, with the delicate crimson edged bud, is painful.  My friend Judy gave it to me for mother's day in 1977.  She was killed in an automobile accident later that summer.   The following year we moved across town and WR dug the rose and transplanted it for me.   It has bloomed and bloomed these many years.  Yesterday he stopped in the middle of something he was working on and said, "Hon, I'm so sorry about Judy's rose."   Me, too.

Another Mother's Day has passed and I am reminded how I still miss my Mama.   A sweet validation of Mama's life was spoken recently to my sister Sandra.  When Sandra attended her 50th high school reunion the first weekend in May she arranged to spend extra time with an "old" school chum who, along with her little sister, spent hours of their youth in the care of our Mama.  During a conversation about "the good old days"  the other woman reminisced about her love of coming to our home.   She attributed the "positive values" that she esteemed in her adult life to what our "mama" had taught her as a little girl.  Our Mama had very little in material things but a wealth of love and character.


A few days before Mother's Day we called Aunt Delores to see if she was free for lunch.  She wasn't.  That  90-year old woman was busy in her kitchen preparing a casserole for a funeral dinner.  Plus, she was going to go down to the church and help serve the meal the ladies were preparing for the family and friends of the deceased.  Yes, she still drives.  She still cooks, cleans, and lives in her little house next door to her daughter.  Her hands are never idle and she is always so positive.


Auntie Fern turned 102 last month.  She isn't as lively as she was a year ago, but is still living in the retirement center and using her walker to go pick up her mail and have meals in the dining room.  The biggest crisis happened last week when we thought she'd thrown away her expensive hearing aids.  Thank goodness they were found in a robe pocket.  She is deaf without them.  But, she was hearing very well the other day when I asked her what she would do differently if she could start all over at age 60.  Her brows kind of furrowed for a moment and then with her trademark grin replied,  "I would just love you all more." 



Sandy said…
I'm so sorry about Judy's rose...and Aunt Fern's advice is about the best I've ever heard...
Sayre said…
I'm sorry about Judy's rose too. We have a plant we've moved with us every time we move houses. It was a gift when my son was born. I know I'd be so upset if something happened to it.

Your Aunts sound like such dynamic women - real people to look up to!
Jan n Jer said…
So sad to hear about the loss of Judy's rose. It gave you many years of enjoyment...maybe it just reached its life span. Both of your Aunts sound so inspiring. You have some good genes!
Living Life said…
Such a heartwarming post Pamela. I am truly sorry about losing your most treasured rose bush. I do hope you will plant another in its' place and dedicate it to Judy.

I just love elderly people, especially when they still appreciate life and live it to its' fullest. Your aunts sound like those kind of people.
grammy said…
Sweet post...the last part made me almost cry...
to stop and love more....
I love my Grands and my Kids LOTS
but sometimes my tiredness makes me grouchy ,,,
bummer...hope that is not what they remember (o:
I was thinking of my Mom lots last week too...and hubby's Mom is in the hospital.
You have aunts that are have a long life ahead of you (o:
bichonpawz said…
I'm so sorry that the roses died Pamela. I still miss my mom every single day. Your Aunt Fern sounds like a wonderful woman!! Just like YOU!
Intense Guy said…
There is a lot of "Character" in your family. Your Aunts Delores and Fern demonstrate good genes (and fine upbringing)... as does your sister Sandra (and you with this sweet post).

I too am sorry about Judy's rose.

I think you would understand this - I have an ivy of some sort that was given to me when my grandmother died by friends at work - its been many years now - and when I look at it, I remember not only my grandmother - but friends I've not seen in years.

Replacing your rose wouldn't be the same - but it would honor your friend's memory anyway... I hope you can find one of the same coloring.
Gattina said…
I don't have any roses in our garden but all roses in the neighborhood died too for the same reason !
Your Auntie Fern is a real miracle ! picking up her mail at 102 !
I hope I will be able to do that too, lol !
I am sorry about your rose, it is such an old variety it would be hard to replace. Has anyone ever taken cuttings from it?
You have lots of good memories about your Mother and favorite Aunts..leave it to used to write about her :)
Peter said…
Hi Pamela, I must plead guilty to not reading blogs, or anything else much over the last month or so, because of the facial paralysis yhat comes with "Bells" reading has become somewhat difficult.
Thanks for jolting me back to the real world with your comments.
Loved this post... you have a way with words and some great memories.
Desert Songbird said…
I'm very sorry about your roses; I know you've had a rough winter and spring up where you are. Yuck. Your memories, however, brought a big smile to my face. Thanks for sharing.

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