Today would be my mother’s 88th birthday. We lost her in 1985, and rarely a day passes that I do not have some thought of her. The memory of her brings a smile to my face even though I miss her.
I would like to share two photographs that I took this morning, with inferior technology and a shaky hand. But combined, they tell you more about Lucille Johanna Lyons Corley than my feeble words could ever convey.
Happy birthday, Mom. I hope heaven did not disappoint you, and that your time here on earth gave you joy amidst the pain. I remember so well when you found, and later wrote about, your unexpected bounty discovered as you dug your garden. Your pleasure still resonates; your smile still shines; though only in our hearts and in our memories. I love you.
This article appeared in Organic Gardening, the editor of which kindly sent a copy to me.
One of the unexpected bounties. In this photo, it sits on a ring cut from Eric’s tree; on a trivet that my mother made from a tile leftover from the time she re-tiled her kitchen counter.
Note: If you click on the picture of the article, it should enlarge for you so you can easily read it. Enjoy.
In loving memory of my mother, who lives in her children and her grandchildren.
And I now can see where your writing talent gene comes from.
jk
Sigh. She had a way with words and was so appreciative of the simple pleasures. I loved her for that and also because MY mother loved her sister so. Thanks for sharing this. Quite a beautiful passage.
Thanks to both the Puma and Theresa for your kind words.
Joyce — my Dad was also a writer, as was his Dad, so perhaps it was a recessive gene! Or two dominant ones, hmmm.