My Mother's Favorite Flowers

When I return to England it wont be the same without my mother.  I sat by her hospital bed, day and night, for eleven days and was holding her hand at the end. What a privilege to spend that time with her.

It was a time of quiet contemplation.

It was a time of anxiety.

It was a time of sorrow.

It was a time of joy.

It was a time of meditation.

It was a time of prayer.

It was a time of remembering.

It was a time of tears.

It was a time of love. *

Mom's favorite flowers are some of my favorites, too. She loved the tulips and forget-me-nots that graced her garden in springtime. That's her spring garden in the picture above and the one below. 

My mother loved forget-me-nots.

 She loved her crocosmia that she called montbretia ...

Mom's hydrangeas were the stars of her summer garden ...

... but her favorite flowers were the roses that my Dad planted all those years ago. It's too late to ask her the name of this perfect, pink beauty.

My mother was never happier than when she was in her garden.

When she could no longer take care of her home and garden, she moved to Cherry Tree Court. There we planted a cherry tree in her honor.  It was displaying its last blooms when I arrived ...

Blossom on Mom's cherry tree.

When she passed away, we placed a plaque next to the tree to show it was planted as a tribute to this wonderful lady.

It was a roller coaster time.

It was a long time.

It was a hard time.

It was a painful time.

It was a time I will never lose sight of. *

* adapted from  More Faith in my Day by Emilie Barnes

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