The Photo, Explained (or why I am the way I am)

Easter Sunday, 2009

I spent Easter in NC this year, in the house where I grew up. Easter was my mother's very favorite holiday, and spending it there has been difficult since she passed away. I think about my mother all the time, and I've often wondered how it would be if she were still here. What would she think of me? Of my life? Of my children? Sometimes, I just want to talk to her, or for her to just reach out and let me know things will be OK.

When I was a little girl, I was very fond of picking wild violets. They were my favorite flower. I was always bringing in hands full when spring came around. My sweet mother would always make a big deal of it, and would say "oh, let me get the special violet vase." She would get out this tiny little blue glass pitcher (that typically held toothpicks) and would show me how to pinch the stems so that they would all fit well. She would put it on the table at dinner and brag about how I'd brought her flowers. One of those really good memories for me. I have looked and looked for this little pitcher over the years, and I finally found it this weekend, on Easter Sunday, no less. Just in time for the violets to be in bloom. Needless to say, it came home with  me, full of violets.

Until