Marching Into Spring
Greetings! I am a poet turned memoirist. I used to teach writing to kids of all ages, but now I get to write anytime I want.
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March 31
One thing I love about Portland, Oregon is that after a winter of dark mornings and early sunsets with days of rain and rain and rain, trees begin to bloom. The first blossoms to appear are the cherry trees., pink and white and fragrant.
Cherry trees have been special to me ever since I had one in my backyard when my family lived for a short time in Evergreen Park, Illinois. I was in fourth grade and when we had to move the next year, that cherry tree was what I mourned most.
Our new house had a huge back yard of grass without trees. I asked my mother to plant a cherry tree but she didn’t want trees to shade the vast vegetable garden she planned.
Spring is also the time for bulbs to make their way above ground, that seeming magic of plants lying dormant all winter until the light changes and they know to peek into the sun.
Unlike my mother, I am not an enthusiastic gardener but I do have a small raised bed where I’ve planted spring bulbs.
I don’t remember Mom ever growing bulbs. I only recall her planting the stinky marigolds she wanted because they helped keep bugs away. I thought my mother didn’t care about beauty but only practicality. If you couldn’t eat it, wear it or use it, an object was of no use to her. I asked my sister Lori if she remembered my mother planting bulbs, and she said that my mother did spend more on flowers after my brother and I left home. I guess when there were fewer mouths to feed, Mom felt she could spare a few dollars on something so frivolous.
I am writing this on the last day of March to fulfill my pledge to post a newsletter every month this year. Earlier this month I got a bit sidetracked by a week-long virus (not Covid but a nasty head cold) and then a trip to Chicago.
Part of the Chicago trip was to see my youngest sister and her wife and part was to spread the rest of my parents’ ashes. My siblings and I had already spread some of them here in Portland but we wanted to take some of my parents back to Illinois where my father was born and they spent most of their married lives.
My parents’ birthdays are coming up next week, my mother’s on April 4th and my father’s on April 6th. Although my dad has been gone for eight years now, my mother died only six months ago. This birthday will be the first without her. A poignant occasion.
In her last years, Mom had to give up her vegetable garden when she and my father moved from Illinois to Portland with my brother’s family. After Dad died, she moved into a small aparment that had a communal garden with raised beds for the residents. Before planting got to be too much for her she had her own little patch to grow anything she wanted. I’m happy she chose flowers.
My mother and I had a tempestuous relationship for most of our lives together. After my father died, we found a little peace with each other. Here is a piece I wrote that appeared in Pangyrus Magazine. I hope you’ll read it HERE.
YOUR TURN
Tell me what Spring means to you. Or perhaps you have something to say about an important relationship in your life. Were you ever surprised to learn something about that person. Did you have to change the way you saw them? Or did they change the way they saw you? I’ld love to hear what you have to say.
BOOK RECOMMENDATION
Tomorrow Will Bring Sunday’s News: A Philadelphia Story, Beth Kephart’s new novel brings to the page a young woman based on her grandmother’s life during the early part of the 20th century. This is historical novel is beautifully written in lyrical prose.
Order if from Bookshop.org HERE.