How Sweet It Is

The picture in yesterday's post was taken in 2007 at Dixon Springs, a park in southern Illinois for which my father had great passion. As a surprise for my mother, the Willow-Oak tree (a mere sapling at the time) was planted by my sisters and me in 2002, in memory of my father -- he'd have loved it.

The trip back to southern Illinois in 2007 was just my mother and me and was an opportunity for her to share stories I had never heard and for me to listen.

                                          Photo taken at a one-room school house that was
                                          converted into a two-room bed&breakfast in
                                          Metropolis, Ill.


We had an absolutely great time. We (I) drove there, stopping along the side of the road for lunches we had packed; pulling over to take photos any time we felt the desire; and reminiscing about my parents lives both in southern Illinois and later in southern Florida. We laughed, we cried, we listened to country music for the first time, and we talked and talked and talked.

That is, of  course, what I miss the most -- talking to her about anything and everything. I cry in the silence of my hollow home, but trust that time will soften this pain.

Today is the Monday before Thanksgiving. Normally I would be helping my mother wrap the hand stitched Christmas ornaments she's made for each of the girls in the family for at least the past 25-years, if not longer. She would give them to daughters, daughter-in-law and grand-children at Thanksgiving. We all look forward to receiving them and have special places for them during the holiday season. I have a small artificial tree, that I've had for as long as she's been making the ornaments, that I smother with the little cross-stitched delights.

The night before she passed away, my mother had one of those "awakenings" you often hear about. She was completely pain-free for about three-hours and was filled with life, spirit, joy, smiles, energy and the will to see how many ornaments she had completed this year.

She could only find three, but kept insisting she had made five. We stopped looking for them when my husband announced he had made dinner, (maybe there will be more on that and my mother's "awakening" at a later date) and we never got back to looking -- until last night when I found 12 completed ornaments!

I can't believe there are 12 of them and I'm so excited to have found them. The actual ornaments are not made, but the cross-stitching is completed and now I have a new "mini" purpose: to do the finish work and mail them out to my sisters and my brother to surprise them and their daughters!

                                                                   How sweet it is!