memorial marigolds

When I was growing up in Elgin, Illinois and going to the First United Methodist Church every Sunday, I remember that, on Mother's Day, I always brought home a single marigold in a yellow pot to my mom. Marigolds remind me of her and their sunny blossom-faces recall the good times we had in Illinois.

So, on this day of remembrance, I decided to go buy some marigolds and sunflower seeds and plants them for her memory and for the memories of all those we lost on 9/11/01. I cannot spend too much time in grieving, though, and, so far, have shed my tears during yesterday's Flight 93 service, listened to music today and plan to go to a local mall that is paying tribute to our local first-responders and raising money to support UMC's trauma center. I went to that center for my ankle; Mark used it when he crashed on his bicycle and Aron has used it twice for an injury and health emergency. So helping those who have helped us to help others also seems like a positive way to link hands on this day.

If I lived closer to Phoenix, I would go to a Dbacks game and celebrate America's favorite pasttime. I would smile at the children born after 9/11/01 and savor the remnants of childhood innocence on their faces. I would gaze at the Stars and Stripes and think about all the wars in the world still going on, all the men and women from different nations who risk their lives for political causes they believe in. I would ponder my own beliefs about God and country.

Just for today, I want to keep my actions simple and grounded in the earth. Tapping the black soil about the fragile roots of new plants, I recall the planting times with my Grandparents Dice and their farm on Randall Road. If there is a home of my soul, it is there--now a fallow five acre parcel with overgrown bushes, grass and trees. But within that dark forest, the bulbs my grandmother guided me to plant may still be wrapping up their leaves for the coming autumn and bloom again in the spring.

Good memories to tend lovingly on this day.