“Love is a Springtime plant that perfumes everything with hope, even the ruins to which it clings.”
Gustave Flaubert, 1821 – 1880
I usually skip the Mother’s Day posts because I never feel as though I can do them justice the way other writers can.
Me? I write about love, in all of its forms. Even with that understanding of what I try to write well, I never seem to get the mothering posts right, or at least not right in the way I want them to be when they are finished.
A and my best friend took me out to lunch today. There are very few people that I love the way I love them. I’ve loved them for two decades now and no two people have ever understood me the way they do. They asked the tough questions today. You know, the ones about my love life. And they made me laugh. And I told them they sucked, even though they really don’t. And we planned a vacation for them. And we talked about A’s earlier years and the things she knew that I never realized until today. My daughter is a woman. She’s a lovely, smart, funny, thoughtful and caring woman. She wants to change the world. What I love the most about her is that she believes it’s possible.
One day, A will have a child of her own. I hope it’s a girl because she’s only thought up girl’s names. She will get to watch as a baby turns into a kid and a kid turns into a woman and it will feel like the time has flown by too quickly. A wants to move to California after college. She wants to start her career on the West Coast. I asked ‘what about me?’ and she said…’come with me until you move to Paris.’
No, smart woman.
She’s on the phone with her Grammy now. I can hear them laughing and it makes me happy that she has this relationship that makes her feel so good. I wish I could have given her that but she never got to know my mom. When I die, and I look back on regrets that will be the biggest one, I think. Perhaps by then it will be my only regret.
This is the perfect moment to wish all of the mothers out there a fantastic rest of the day. It’s also a good time to wish all of the single parents out there lots of love and respect – sometimes it’s hard to see how good of a job you are doing until, while you’re walking down the street, your 20 year old puts her hands in yours and says: I love you.
Oh, the pic? It’s two kinds of basil: Thai and Sweet. The Thai basil is flowering and I think that means I am supposed to trim the pretty purple flowers, but I really like them. This is the week I move on to writing about my urban garden – or, Utopia on the Hudson as I like to call it. But today…today you get basil.
Yes, that is a wine cork marker in the basil. I’ve got enough corks to mark a 100 plants.