Sounds of Melting Snow

On Easter Sunday my garden beds were once again covered with snow.

 

In March I loved the sound of melting snow. I dreamed of bright tulips blooming soon. I walked around the yard to look for little leaves emerging. I moved my hands through the dirt to see if the compost and older soil had enriched together over the winter. I sighed when I saw the weeds that forgot to die. 

Mother Nature wasn't ready for me to move outside and garden. The weather kept returning to winter, the temperature kept dropping below zero, and I often woke up to snow. I am waiting a bit impatiently for  the first faint scent of spring again.

I first posted this poem in April of 2019. I read it again tonight and it reminded me how much my sister has given me, especially in the last few years. My dear sweet husband Everett got sick and spent a lot of time in the hospital. After four weeks of working to get better, he closed his eyes, said good-bye and went to heaven. My sister was there for me. She was there while he was in the hospital, She was there to take care of Riley. She made me meals. Tasks emerged as I adjusted to life alone. She helped me move furniture, plant seeds, got me out of the house, made me laugh, and listened to me as I shared my sorrow. Along with others she made his Celebration of Life just what I wanted.She was my sunshine when I was surrounded by the dark. I am blessed to have my sister Carol.

My Sister, My Friend

Leann Stiegman

To me you are an angel in disguise.
Full of intuition, you are intelligent and wise.
Always giving and helping through good times and bad.
You are the best friend I've ever had.
If I had one wish, it would surely be
To give you as much as you've given to me.
Though I've put our relationship through some cloudy days,
You've been my sunshine in so many ways.
Through trials and tests, right by me you stood,
And you gave me your hand whenever you could.
Thank you so much, my sister, my friend.
My gratitude for you has no end.

The Silver Lining in the Snow

 

Signs of spring have been emerging in my flower beds for weeks. I have already made a bouquet with the small mini daffodils. They are the flowers that bloom first whether it is cold or warm, sunny or snowy. Above is what I brought in today to keep them out of the snow. 

The grape hyacinths spread all year and when spring arrives the bright purple blooms pop up all over the front flower beds and the raised beds in the backyard. They aren't picky about the weather.

The earlies tulips bloomed a few days ago. When snow began to to fall yesterday,and then again today I went out and picked the tulips to make sure they would survive. 

The weeds I needed to pull are back under the snow. The freezing temperatures are allowing me to stay inside and finish some projects not completed during the winter. I can now build a fire again in the fireplace. 

All silver linings. Yes, I wish it was warmer. Yes, I wish I could dig in the dirt. It is okay. I still have bouquets, I have color popping out from the snow. I have a nice fire burning in the house. 

Now Riley is having a hard time finding silver linings. He is tired of getting snowed on and coming home wet. He wants to run in the sunshine.

Grayson is tired of it also. We had a long talk tonight and I tired to explain unpredictable spring weather. He was very puzzled. I guess I have to admit I am a bit puzzled also.

An Easter Flower Gift

 

An Easter Flower Gift

O DEAREST bloom the seasons know, Flowers of the Resurrection blow,   Our hope and faith restore; And through the bitterness of death And loss and sorrow, breathe a breath         5   Of life forevermore!   The thought of Love Immortal blends With fond remembrances of friends;   In you, O sacred flowers, By human love made doubly sweet,         10 The heavenly and the earthly meet,   The heart of Christ and ours! -John Greenleaf Whittier

A Kitchen Memory

 There are so many memories I have of my mother  in this kitchen. I remember her standing  there frying bacon, stirring potato soup, heating up Campbell's soup, putting an apple pie in the oven, and always cleaning the drip pans under the burners when she was done. 

A Kitchen Memory

My mother is peeling an apple over the sink,
her two deft hands effortless and intent.
The skin comes away in the shape of a corkscrew,
red and white by turns, with a shimmer of rose
where the blade in its turn cuts close: a blush,
called out of hiding like a second skin.
Now the apple fattens in her hand;
the last scrap of parings falls away;
and she halves and sections the white grainy meat,
picks up another apple, brushes back
the dark hair at her temple with the knife hand.
The only sound is the fan stirring the heat.
- Roy Scheele

The last line of this poem didn't happen in our kitchen. Mom didn't have a fan stirring the heat. She just baked, fried, and scrambled no matter how hot the temperature  was.  Every single time.

Remember Me

The poem today is dedicated to my husband Everett. I can hear him reading the lines in my mind . He was my vase for the bouquets I created. When I wanted to photograph one, a bouquet turned out better if he held them in his hands. I miss my favorite vase JEJ every day.

Remember Me

by Anthony Dowson

Speak of me as you have always done.
Remember the good times, laughter, and fun.

Share the happy memories we've made.
Do not let them wither or fade.

I'll be with you in the summer's sun
And when the winter's chill has come.

I'll be the voice that whispers in the breeze.
I'm peaceful now, put your mind at ease.

I've rested my eyes and gone to sleep,
But memories we've shared are yours to keep.

Sometimes our final days may be a test,
But remember me when I was at my best.

Although things may not be the same,
Don't be afraid to use my name.

Let your sorrow last for just a while.
Comfort each other and try to smile.

I've lived a life filled with joy and fun.
Live on now, make me proud of what you'll become.