flowers for moms

I’ll never forget on what seemed like my fortieth visit to the lactation consultants at Bronson when one of the nurses told me Connor had an old soul. I wasn’t really sure what it meant but I felt like I had seen that in him, even at four weeks. He just seemed … older; like he had so much more insight into the world than even I, his own mom, had given him credit for. I’ve seen this trait manifest itself several more times since then; most recently, on Mother’s Day.

Every year, the kindergarten and first grade classes at our church pass out flowers to the moms at the conclusion of our church service. I’m not sure how many years this tradition has been in place but I do know now that these days my sister, with the help of her girls (and sometimes my mom) take on the task of buying and planting the flowers in little paper cups.

My mom told me Sunday while church was concluding that Connor had asked her where her mom was, as innocently as any six-year-old would. She shared with him that her mom, the unforgettable Ruby, had passed on quite some time ago (I can’t believe it’s been 27 years now) and that she was in Heaven. Because he’s already become too familiar with death in his short life, he asked her where she’s buried and my mom shared that her body is out at Maplewood Cemetery, outside of Hopkins. He responded, “Well, then we need to take one of these flowers out to your mom.”

My mom couldn’t hold back tears as of course, she was reminded of her own mom. She told me that she would like to take Connor out there to help her plant a flower for grandma.

Tonight, after his t-ball game and soccer practice, my mom and dad took Connor and his cousin, Lindsey out to Maplewood to do just that. I was so proud of him. I asked him as we left church (I had band practice) to tell me all about it and he shared that it made him sad, and that he got to dig the dirt to plant the flowers. He also shared that he knew I had other family there … a grandpa, three uncles, two aunts and a second cousin. It took me back to visits I’ve made. I don’t go often enough but when I do, there is peace and now, there are more flowers.

day 289
“Flowers grow out of dark moments.” -Corita Kent

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