Monday, May 10, 2010
When I was a little girl we picked irises and took them to the cemetery on Memorial Day. I would carefully wrap the cut stems in wet paper towels so we could transport them in the car. They carry special meaning for me since my mother past away. I think of her when I see them. How I would love to cut some and carefully place them on her headstone. I would look at her name etched on rock and remember how she loved her babies. I'm her baby, only all grown up now, with little ones of my own. I think of how she loved to make handcrafted gifts and pick irises to remember her loved ones by. I was so elated to see that there were some irises growing here when we rented this house. In the fall I transplanted them to my flowerbed. I can't believe the blossoms this spring. I'm off to kiss my baby because they grow up way to fast.
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