Thoughts at Christmas.....

This shelf holds upon it some of my most treasured things. How simple is that little teddy bear or the container of broken pussy willow branches; gold watch that wraps the bears neck and the family expressive picture above. That tiny, little Christmas tree, with it's old silken and wrinkled poinsettias, much too large for such a tiny little tree. Anyone to walk past, who did not know me well, would probably not stop and take much notice of these things but for a simple glance. But, as i do often when passing by this shelf, i'll stop for awhile. My finger might gently touch the soft small pussywillows but with such care, as over time they become so fragil. So often, i've picked up that little white teddy, put it against my nose and inhaled it's scent as deeply as possible. It does begin to fade now but I still pick up it's so precious aroma. There is a gold watch that wraps the Teddy's neck...its hands remain on 11:05, where they ceased March of 2005. I watched them slow and waited for the moment in which they would stop. I told myself at that very moment, my mother was now happy in heaven.

The pussywillows, picture and teddy with her watch, always remain in place. Christmas i put her the small tree beside them, as i have done for the past two Christmas's. This Christmas was no different. I'd come to this shelf and touch with ease, and smell her scent and remember her. Still, a tear would spill but her memory is needed much more in that moment. In each touch, and in each moment her scent fills me, i feel her for that moment still near me. And so, wrapped in her memories my Mother always lives on, within me.

That little tree, I remember having many laughs over with her. She did not want to bother decorating for Christmas. She has no interest in it at all. Her trees became smaller and simplier each year. So on her table, she'd put that little Christmas tree and that was that. She'd joke after Christmas had passed about having to "take down the tree" and put it away. As though, it was going to be an all day affair with her work cut out for her. And now, i have that little tree and like her, i put it out each year and think of her. She always had such a wonderful sense of humor.

The broken pussy willow branches that i keep are from her hospital room where she passed on and one from the first anniversary of her passing. In her memory, her garden is surrounding in pussywillow bushes, which are the first signs of spring here.

All of these things have been healing to me. Our mother is still such a part of our lives, every day.