It’s Saturday morning and this day has been X’d-out on my calendar for weeks – no place to go, nothing that must be done! I’ve been guarding this day like my own radiant rainbow. No alarm clock wakes me and I pour my first cup of coffee to a sunny spring day, then walk outside with the dog to enjoy it.
She heads around to the front gardens and I follow her, my thoughts as random as the ‘rows’ of columbine I stop to admire. And beside these exotic blooms, the garlic chives look more robust than ever.
I pinch a bulb from the end of one stem, then bring it close to savor the scent. And though my Italian mother would wrinkle her nose when a recipe called for garlic, it is easy to conjure memories of her within the swirl of its pungent aroma.
Even as I walk by the fragile and fragrant lily of the valley, Mom stands there reminding me to add a pinch of sugar to the tomato sauce, telling me to fix my hair “it looks like hell”, protecting me from my childhood night demons … loving me the best way she knew how.
And now, I have brought the bulb inside with me and again, breathe deeply. The scent is still there, though not as striking.
There are things I wish my mother and I had been able to talk about, disagreements we never resolved. At the time, they seemed as overwhelming as the smell of garlic chives and now … are difficult to recall.
And here is a link to an excellent article about senior home care costs and options – http://money.cnn.com/2013/05/01/pf/home-care.moneymag/index.html