Memories

This made me think of Jennifer

I have no idea. 

 I do have her address so I Googled Earth(ed) the house they are renting,

 but couldn't get a ground view of it.

Sometimes, I get real teary-eyed and desperate about it, but then,

I give it up to God, because I can't do a thing about it.

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I have a basket that hangs on the wall under my seasonal angel x-stitched pictures.  Every time Fred gave me a bouquet of roses, I'd take one rose, hang it upside down in a dark closet and after it had dried, put it in this basket.The three yellow roses he gave me on our first date--him telling me, "Yellow roses stand for friendship.  Red roses mean love," were at the front of the basket and the rest filling up the back, until that basket was filled to the brim. (On the 3rd date, he brought me a dozen red roses.)

Well, you know how it is.  You place something in your house and it is there and after awhile you don't even look at it because it is part of your house?

Yesterday, while cleaning the living room, I put up my Spring angel picture and noticed how old, dead, dusty and ugly looking that basket of roses had become.  So, trying to be logical and practical, I took the basket out to the trash can and turned it upside down.  That act made me sad, but.......only for a moment.  Let's face the cold hard truth here.  There hasn't been a new rose placed in that basket for nearly five years.  The first yellow ones were 11 years old!!  Time to go.

I stuffed a bunch of fake Tulips in the basket and each new season, when I put up the next Angel picture, I will put in new fake flowers for that season.

BUT--I still have Fred's, dirty, worn out, old sneakers in the upper shelf in my bedroom closet.  Sigh.

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Something one of my blog buddies posted about reminded me of a long ago memory.  Butterflies. 

My Mother had a thing for Monarch butterflies.  She planted Milk Weed to get them to come in near her gardens.  When she read about them gathering in Point Pelee, Ontario for their migration to Mexico, she persuaded my Dad to load up their pick-up camper and take us all there.  Mother, Daddy, Susie, my hubs, me and our three kids.

We saw millions of Monarchs hanging in the bushes and trees.  Mother was thrilled!

Mother died five months later.  

That summer, as I sat on the ground, weeding my 120' long perrenial garden, a Monarch came and lit on my left shoulder.  I sat quietly for a moment and then said, "Mother.  Is that you?"

When I got back inside the house, there was a message on the answering machine.  It was from my sister, Susie.  She lived quite a distance away from me.  I called her back and first thing she said, "You will not believe this.  I was sitting out in the sun on the patio and a Monarch butterfly came and lit on my shoulder!  I wondered if it was Mother."

"Which shoulder?" I asked.

"My right one."

Now, neither my sister or I believe in "signs" from the hereafter, nor that people who have passed on can send messages, but when I told her of my experience, almost at the same time as hers, we both said, "Hm-mm.  Maybe?"

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The Monarchs come into this link at about the 3 minute mark.