Dear Mother - Querida Mãe

All that I am, or hope to be, I owe to my angel mother.
                    Abraham Lincoln

Missing you dearly.
Happy Birthday, Mother.
How I wish we could plant
white pansies (amor perfeitos - perfect loves)
together today.

Pansies were among my mother's
favorite flowers, not the tiny johnny jump ups variety,
but the large faced old fashioned pansies
with their charming smiley faces.
I'll plant white pansies with purple faces
today to commemorate her 86th birthday.
Just me, in solitude, out in the garden
dirt where I can carry on a conversation. 

I didn't know it, but the old house at 424 Purisima
had everything I needed
to fill my heart for a lifetime.
While I searched and peace alluded me,
the peace my soul desired was already
within me.

A large garden with an apple and plum tree.
Shasta daisies (margaridas),
fuchsias, roses (rosas), camellias (japonicas),
geraniums (solteiras), and
hydrangeas (hortencias).
I learned their Portuguese common names first.

My mother would garden by the light of the moon while
she cared for father in late stage Alzheimer's.  Her garden
was among the most beautiful of cottage gardens.
The flowers so loved, they lifted their heads to listen
to the outpouring of my mother's heart, to kiss
the sunshine and the water so lovingly provided.

My parents in the backyard at 424 Purisima

My father and me in the parlor at 424 Purisima. Always smiling.  

Me, Father, sister Mericia, and Joe in the parlor

My parents with the Last Supper in the pink kitchen at 424 Purisima