Daisies Dotted Armageddon…

Somewhere around 5 am I woke for the third time this early morning. The house predictably quiet. Stillness comforted. My 14-year-old rescue didn’t even raise his head as I passed him. Cub is used to my early morning wanderings…

Being caught somewhere between the residual of darkness and the light of day has tortured me on some occasions but mostly and nearly always it delights. There is a reassurance with a new day. A chance to start anew…

I made my way into the kitchen to start my day and more importantly the coffee. A modest home making the steps few. I glanced through the awkwardly large set of curtainless windows behind the kitchen table as something caught my waking eyes. Under the veil of darkness, a field of daisies. Out of the mud created by our ambitious home improvement construction site were white daisies by the numbers. Wild and free. The purity of their delicate white petals beamed light through the weighty gray rainy skies.

The soil had remained rich despite the many sticks, rocks and debris that was more in keeping with Armageddon than a woodland wonder. Hope sprawled and rambled across our backyard. The industrious beauty and power of nature was on exhibit. An unrelenting reassurance that out of the mud life continues to bloom. My first view on this June 1st as I remembered the woman born on this day so many years ago…

To the woman who taught me to drink water and not soda. To go outside and play. All day. To love the ocean and Little Compton in particular. To enjoy shopping locally or on 5th Avenue. To teaching me about the arts from Baryshnikov to Brynner. To draw, paint and write. Laugh daily. Work hard. To care about others. Always. To love my children in her likeness. Love unconditionally with all your heart and soul…

She was and always will be the bright light on any given day cloudy or otherwise…

“Motherhood is the exquisite inconvenience of being another person’s everything.” — Unknown