Believe In Tomorrow…

Tomorrow…

Found, Not Lost

I slipped into living in the moment Saturday morning. I didn’t plan it and that’s how it happens best.
I bought flowers on Thursday afternoon. On Friday, it was freezing and windy, so I had to leave creating a patio garden around my little trailer for another day.
I picked a bouquet from the hibiscus and the roses, and I spent all day Friday taking pictures.
Saturday morning, when I woke, it was still cold. I peeked outside and I could feel the sun on my face, so I pulled on a warm shirt and long pants and I went outside with my coffee.
Then, I played with the flowers.
As I trimmed and repotted the plants, I fell into my old familiar rhythm.
I started gardening with my mum when I was a toddler and she generously passed on her green thumb to me and to my two sisters.
I didn’t save any gardening tools when I downsized to the trailer because I promised myself that I would never buy and fill up another house and yard only to leave them when I moved. (I have left over fifteen houses and fifteen gardens behind in my travels.)
I thought I could simply stop growing plants and flowers, but my longing for a garden said no.
Then, I remembered driving from New Hampshire to Oklahoma with a dozen plants in the back of my pickup truck. They not only survived; they had a growth spurt during the three-day trip.
The idea for a traveling, patio garden was born.
I bought three unique hibiscus plants, aloe, two stunning rose bushes, tulips, a philodendron, cyclamen and two plants just because they were pink. No, I don’t know their names. They waved hello to me and I scooped them up.
I also bought Jungle Growth soil, Black Cow manure, Miracle Grow plant food, organic bug spray, flowerpots, and gardening shears.
I didn’t think about a trowel; but I found out that with potted plants, a fork loosens the soil nicely.
Later, as I was cleaning the mess I had made, I realized that I had been totally in the moment, lost in what I was doing for over three hours.
I felt so relaxed and so happy. The euphoria lasted the rest of the day and I realized that I didn’t lose myself in the plants, I found myself.
Working with soil and nurturing flowers is as integral to who I am as writing and I pray that I never forget that again.

Wildflowers

11

The breeze in my face is sweet
and it tastes like the ocean in my lungs
although it’s not.
Then again, it really is because
that’s what it tastes like to me.
Freedom is a wildflower growing
where ever the wind blows her seeds,
in a garden or in an empty field.
Freedom tastes like the ocean
and looks like wildflowers
and freedom…she dances
with the confidence of seventeen.

Jeanne Marie, 2019

The Painting

Dear Family,
I have sold the house and I am downsizing to a travel RV.
Now, I know how much ya’ll loved Miss Peggy-Sue and I don’t want you fighting over this picture, so I have a plan.
First, we all know that this picture is priceless, mostly because Auntie Jean painted it, may she RIP.
Second, because we all know what a sweetheart MPS was and how much joy she gave our family for 24 years. (She really didn’t bite that hard.)
So, whomever wants to give me $500.00 a month for the rest of my life, you will be awarded permanent ownership of this awesome reminder of your little sister. (Hint-hint on possible bidders.) Payments can be made through PayPal, as I will be rolling full-time.
You could also split the fee four ways, and each have this sugar pie in your home, staring down at you for three months of the year.
I offered it for free to two of my four children and they turned the offer down passionately. I think they were just overcome by the memories of our sweet and crazy little girl.
In retrospect, I realized that if I don’t ask for money, they might not realize the value of Miss Peggy-Sue’s portrait.
It was going to be their inheritance, but I have decided to leave one of my kids my painting I did when I was turning 60 years old. One will get an autographed copy of my new book, SHE, not yet written or published, so hopefully I’ll live long enough to finish the book, or someone gets nothing. (I have finished the cover!)
One will receive the painting I did when I turned 63, admittedly not my best work, but it was a very rough year. One will receive my potpourri collection, flower petals from every garden I’ve grown since 2007. It also includes petals from all my flowers that ya’ll gave me as presents, so it’s a return on your original investment; although, I might have to put a price on the potpourri, just so you know how special it is to me.
This portrait deal is a limited time offer and is open first to my four children. After July 15th, any member of my family is welcome to make a generous offer.
Let’s all take a moment to comment on what we loved best about Miss Peggy-Sue, although she was an alien from the planet Unknown, she never did us any long-lasting harm and the bites did heal.
No foul language, please.
Love, MUM aka Jeanne Marie

https://womenwhothinktoomuch.com/2013/04/01/why-i-miss-the-boy/

Dandelion Wishes


Along our travels, we made a pit stop for food and I walked outside to get some fresh air. I found a field of dandelions gone to fluff and I picked a bouquet.
I spun around and around in my butterfly covered sun dress and let the fluff cover me as I made wishes.
I could feel the magic surround me.
The magic didn’t come from the dandelion fluff, it came from believing in dandelion wishes.
I’ll never forget that moment.
I tucked it in my heart to save for a rainy day…

The Most Beautiful Girl

I saved a Valentine’s Day rose from my son for twenty-odd years.
Then, when it fell apart, I still saved the petals with the card which read, “To the most beautiful girl I know, my mom.”
He was sixteen that day when he brought me a rose at work, handsome and a foot taller than me.
And very smart, because while my tears were still messing with my make-up, he hit me up for a loan to buy his girlfriend a dozen roses and I gave it to him with a smile and a hug…
I kinda knew I had been played, but his technique was awesome. He played it so smooth, almost a man.
He is forty now and I know I’m not the most beautiful girl in his world…two other awesome ladies were destined to share that spot and I love them.
Still, every time I come across the faded card, the sweet words and the dried-out petals…I smile.
I close my eyes and for just a moment, I soak in the memory of his surprise visit, back to the moment when to my son, I was the most beautiful girl he knew…