I’d rather celebrate a beginning
than an ending.
As I write this post, it’s 21 April 2019: Easter Sunday this year and my father’s birthday every year. He died in December 2010; today he would have been 97.
After he died, and until she died, my mother arranged for memorial flowers in her church every year on his birthday. As far as I know, no one ever challenged her choice or even enquired why she didn’t place flowers on the anniversary of his death instead. Nonetheless, she seemed to feel that she was doing something a bit out of the ordinary: I certainly heard her reasoning more than once.
I’d rather celebrate a beginning
than an ending.
For all living things, of course, the end is implicit in the beginning. And yet I understand Mom’s point of view, perhaps because I share it.
Today, Mom can’t place flowers for Dad, so I’ll do it on her behalf, with fresh flowers picked just yesterday in Virginia. And what a glorious beginning they represent.
Redbud
Dogwood
Beautiful thoughts, Isabel. And memories.
Tom
Tom – Yes. Thank you.
Your photos make me drool for spring!
And made me realize my mother died almost 8 years ago. Seems like yesterday.
And my dad would have been 98 this January 1-19-19. He always liked the symmetry of that date.
Barbara – Yes, we too are waiting for spring to get here. Yesterday what got here were snow pellets in our backyard for about 10 minutes. Completely unacceptable.
Isabel – We celebrate the memory of my mum’s birthday with buttertarts (a specialty of hers) and my dad’s birthday with Cheezie’s and a glass of wine (a favourite of my dad). I think my theory is that I have good memories of their birthdays, not so great memories of the days they died.
Alison – Food, eh? I like it! That would entitle me to some pumpkin pie and whipped cream on Dad’s birthday, and almost anything with red wine for Mom’s day.
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