Oh, it’s out of season, sure – but she was so full of happiness. That was her wedding hope chest, full of the linens and dreams of her youth. I can remember still when she had to sell it along with so many of her things, when I was still quite young. I did so covet those wee salt and peppers -the blue of the cobalt glass shining from the silver filigree.
She had to give up so much in her lifetime. So many dreams.
It’s her birthday and I’ve thought about her a lot today. I wonder if she thinks of me, if it is possible for her to…I miss her so much.
She’d love the roses and the sweet peas in bloom. I hope she has flowers all the time, now. And that there is no season but that of youth and hope and promise.
Happy Birthday, Mommer…