This time of year makes me always think of my mother. Now that she is gone I know that I will not be seeing paper towels laying around her home with seeds drying on them ever again.
Mother loved flower gardens. Before she was too disabled she had a yard that was so very lovely and well maintained. When their beauty would fail, she would, just at the right time, pick her seed for the next years garden.
I never really got the gardening gene from her. I’m more the “let me look at it and someone else maintain it type of gal.” As things begin to change with her gone, little memories like this one come to the forefront of my mind.
There is joy in the memories and hopefully they will cover the mourning that lays upon my heart.
Grace is a gift,