She was always there in her garden planting and making things come to life. That was her gift, life. She herself bloomed where she was planted, millions of miles away from what she new as home. Not only did she bloom, but everything around her came to life as well. My mom could make anyone smile and forget about all their life's problems. I would remember her open door policy, you never had to call to come by for a visit or some lovin'. She was always there in her garden. Her garden was her church with her heavenly family. Her garden was her children's homes when they grew up, always stopping by with groceries and treats for the grand kids. Her garden was the parking lot when someone would beg for some spare change, she would always give to them-always. Her garden was where her friends were; whenever they were in need she'd give them whatever she could. My mother's garden was full of flowers that were on the clearance racks at the nurseries. She'd never buy the ones who were perfect, but the ones who needed an abundance of sun and water. Those were the ones she'd bring home and back to life. I miss you mom today as I see my own garden in the backyard needing your attention, your life.
my parents with Niko in my back yard~2005