As I went to put bobby pins in my hair today, I was caught up in the most amazing memory.
I’m looking in the mirror, and suddenly, I’m watching my mom roll her long, black hair around her finger and then, she uses a bobby pin to hold it in place. Although it is my face, my mom’s face reflects back at me and I smile. I feel eight years old, watching her, the way I did each night before bed for so many years.
Every night, my mom would put those bobby pins in her hair.
Dad, drunk, screaming and yelling, nothing stopped her, nothing he ever did stopped her.
My mom was an amazing, strong and beautiful woman.
She just sat there in her own little space and rolled up her hair.
What a bitter-sweet memory simple, little bobby pins brought to me today.
“I am so proud of you Mum, even more now that I am older, because I have been to war too. Now, I know how hard you had to fight. I have fought the codependency battles. Your unconditional love and your strengths made me stronger. I love you and I miss you everyday.”
Here are a few of my favorite pics from my first fall in Vermont. The colors were incredibly vibrant and two weeks early. This was the view from my front door, for two weeks. My eyes, my soul and my cell phone camera were overwhelmed.
In the midst of my autumn
watching my colors turn
yellows, reds and golds.
When the last leaf dies
storms will throw their icy
weight upon this body old.
Snowflakes will drift and pile
the tree limbs will come down
when boughs fail to hold.
Gifted with four seasons and
it seemed a time so long,
yet quickly, my leaves turned gold.
I pray you remember me as autumn
dancing in the wind, swirling and
bursting with colors so vivid and bold.
The sunflowers reach for the sun
they don’t know that the summer…
the summer is done.
Still bursting with tiny, green, closed buds
and the mother plant proudly presenting
the huge yellow sunflowers that I love.
It will only take one frosty night
and then my beautiful sunflowers
you will no longer be mine.
To the ground, to the ground
sunflower petals and seeds will fall
but I know…I know you will come back
shooting up in the spring, then
once more my sunflowers
you will be mine
until the first frost of fall.