Today marks the beginning of another week and I anticipate holding my first grand baby in my arms.
On August 11, I decided I wanted to celebrate my daughter’s rite of passage and be with her in a calm and supportive environment as she moves into the last days of her pregnancy. I stopped, with purpose, at the grocery store in order to choose some white carnations and baby’s breath. My father, as a ritual, would stop in to a store on his way home from work and bring my mother carnations. Sometimes they were red. Sometimes they were white. And sometimes they were a combination of both. I wanted to call into our prayer circle, my mother, grandmothers and the matriarchs of my son-in-law, as well. During the blessing, I told the story of the carnations, placed in the center of our prayer circle. Here they are, here. (My son-in-law snapped this photograph for me yesterday morning, August 12, because I had a “Facebook Memory: This happened four years ago” photograph pop up on my Timeline and my mouth dropped.)
My father sent me this bouquet on August 12, 2013, the summer my beautiful mother passed away. Here is the photograph I took of those flowers four years ago.
Hmmm….perhaps, just serendipity? The hairs stood up on the back of my neck. Mom, you are always with me and I know that you will be with us all as we take this wonderful journey over the coming week. I love you.