Rosemary

Desiree

Rosemary

Desiree
rosemary-123261_640I'm back at the  hospital again today. For several days now, I've felt a persistent longing to visit Mom's grave. To bring flowers, light a candle, pray. But Mom has no grave to visit. She was cremated, as she wanted. At some future time, Dad will scatter the ashes on their property, down where the horses were kept. She loved to ride, adored her horses, and the horses themselves (four of them) are buried down there.

This morning I decided to do something different. Instead of averting my eyes, I would walk right up to the window. The window of the ICU room where Mom died.

I wanted to bring flowers. And light a candle. But at this time of year, the roses, lilacs, and irises that adorn our yard are done until next spring. I've no money to buy a bouquet from a store. And I didn't have a proper glass jar candle. Then I remembered.

I remembered that the rosemary flourishes here all year long. That it was one of Mom's (and mine) favorite herbs. And that, in the timeless language of flowers, it symbolizes remembrance.

I took my pruning shears, cut a thick, fragrant bunch, and put it in a pretty red paper gift bag. I attached a note:

Dear Mom,

You died here, in the room behind this window, a little over a month ago. I love you and I miss you. I think of you, and pray for you often. Please put in a good word for me in Heaven, okay?

(I added a line from Shakespeare...)

Here's rosemary, that's for remembrance.

Love, D.

Outside the ICU there's a pretty little "tranquility garden". I placed my offering, my remembrance, among the juniper shrubs that grow below that window. And walked back inside to join Grandma in the waiting room.

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