Dear Mom,
I watered your plants today, inside and out. How nice it was to hear the water flow from the hose. I held my thumb over the spout a bit and let the water arch over the succulents in the yard, (they are yellowing without your attentive hand) and I was reminded of countless hours spent in the evening through dusk with you and dad washing the car and attending to the yard while I rode around on my roller skates or bike and Annie played with sidewalk chalk and a jump-rope.
I miss you, Mom, and I can’t wait to celebrate your return home to your yard and the ‘Peaceful Garden’ Dad has named “Wisteria.”
I was pleased to see Wisteria today. There is a sunflower blooming in the center pot that is usually on the upper deck. The Jade is deep green and plump. The bamboo I gave to you because I under-watered it, is shooting nicely, and I repotted the pink roses you received while still on the 14th floor. Everything waits for you to grace it with your radiant smile, Mom. Especially the Ficus.
The beautiful Ficus that once stood over eight feet tall in your living room, which because of over-fertilization, is half the height it was.
Remember when it first showed spots on the leaves and we wondered if it was over-fertilized? You rinsed the roots and repotted it several times before you had to prune it back significantly and send it to recovery in Wisteria.
It has new leaves, Mom. It’s recovery is slow. It comes and goes with the temperature changes, strong and weak breezes, hydration, fertilization, sunshine and fog. But it IS coming back. Although not very visible at first, gradually, it is returning to its splendor after the trauma it experienced. I can’t wait for you to come recover in Wisteria, Mom.
You are the Lord’s. Do not be afraid.
Who of you by worrying can add a single hour to his life? “And why do you worry about clothes? See how the lilies of the field grow. They do not labor or spin. Yet
