I’ve been thinking about my mom quite a bit lately. It isn’t that I don’t think of her, because she’s always in my mind at one point or another in a days’ time for any number of reasons.
When I leave something out of place, I hear her voice telling me to put it away. Or as I complete a task, I remember the times she explained how she would do it instead. I think of her when I cook and when I pull weeds, or when I simply think, because she does quite a bit of it herself.
Yes, I know everyone thinks. But there are different kinds of thinking. Some are good at avoiding their thoughts. Others think solely to work through the mechanics of a day or a week. Even a lifetime — just so they have something to think about.
There are those who keep themselves busy so they might avoid their thoughts. Perhaps moving one’s hands works as an eraser might, obliterating memories that replay themselves inhumanely.
Some people do all of the above simultaneously.
Relentlessly.
I can hear her thinking right now.
The lavender outside my back door is beautiful right now, its deep blue more intense than I’ve seen before. I let it get wild and rarely cut it to bring inside because I enjoy its cascade from the planter encroaching onto the flagstones, the long stems pushing skyward, attracting bees and butterflies. When I brush my hand over the blossoms, sweet fragrance fills the air.
I couldn’t resist cutting a handful to put in an old vase she gave me a few years ago.
Lavender is soothing, relaxing the mind and the body, and it’s what I always want for her more than anything else.
So on this Love Thursday, I’m thinking of this first day of spring, and fragrant flowers.
I’m thinking of my mom.
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