In Search of My Mother’s Garden

Our father, in moments of wit or jest, often described Our Mother as “ a pretty thang.” And she was. She was also spirited, maybe even a little vain and naive, and sometimes, a wee bit goofy. She loved her hair (she said it was her glory), her hats, her home and her husband. These were also the things that gave Our Mother a lot of sway with our father, which, occasionally, she leveraged. Nevertheless, he was her protector, her provider and her partner. And these were not just words; they were evidenced in his attitude and behaviors. Conversely, she was the keeper of his home, his children, his dreams, his secrets, and his best self. These were not just words either.