Tag Archives: spring

Sun, Sun, Sun, Here It Comes

Little darling
It’s been a long, cold, lonely winter
Little darling
It feels like years that it’s been here

2015-03-29 16.58.42

I’m celebrating and commemorating my little darling’s epoch-making 95th winter almost ending and 95th spring almost beginning with two exclamation points!!

I thought about doing it with ninety-five exclamation points, but that would be a little over the top. So, I’ll just silently count ninety-five of them, point by point, as they prance and dance around in my head.

This has been one mighty long, cold winter and mom, as usual, has been a mighty warrior standing up to Old Man W.

Mom may have had the sniffles a time or two, but she never missed a day at Circle Center Adult Day Care. She has traveled by wheel chair from her home to her waiting chariot, to Circle Center and back in rain, sleet, snow, wind, and cold, cold, cold!

Did I mention cold?

She never complained, never hid under the covers, never did anything but get bundled up and go like a windup toy. How many of you can hold a hand up and count yourself as one with mom?

Mom is tough stuff. Even with a father who started his career in medicine as a horse and buggy doctor, she never took advantage of it. She never got sick.

Do I hear an exclamation?



Little darling
The smiles returning to the faces
Little darling
It seems like years since it’s been here

I smile every time I’m with my ninety-five year old little darling, because she always smiles at me first. And, when she smiles, I smile. It’s as simple as that. It can be cold as ice or hotter than hell … I know I’ll get a smile out of her, guaranteed!

For the rest of the us, spring will be heating our lips up enough to have smiles returning to our faces, but for mom, that patented smile of hers never left.

That’s ninety-five, unstoppable, smile filled years … yep, you guessed it … !

For mom being a smiling mom through thick and thin, I brought her a handpicked daffodil.

2015-03-29 15.24.38

Little darling
I feel that ice is slowly melting
Little darling
It seems like years since it’s been clear

No matter how promising it sounds when the Beatles sing their song, Here Comes the Sun, ice slowly melting is not nearly fast enough for me.

Today, I had to bundle up and replace a dripping outdoor water spigot (funny word) at mom’s. It was making unwanted icicles, and and adding unwanted expenses to the water bill. How cold was it? So cold that I was one of only a handful of people who braved the cold to be in a Walmart … that’s how cold (time for another exclamation)!

Two days ago, Melissa and I were hiking in the Blue Ridge mountains, experiencing spring springing up on one side of the mountain, the same time it was snowing on the other. Even the wildlife looked confused.

Tom Spring Springing Melissa Spring Springing Spring Springing Tom Melissa Snow Mountains

Here comes the sun
Here comes the sun
And, I say, it’s all right

Mom is still aware of the seasons. In the winter she points to trees and calls them naked. It the spring and summer, she knows they turned over a new leaf. She likes to have the window cracked just a bit when she is in the car. She loves the feel of the warm breeze.

Having spent the majority of my life in the Sunshine State of Florida, I love the sun. In fact, it was one winter, after a long career in Richmond, that was the straw that broke one frozen camel’s back and sent me packing back to Florida for seventeen years before coming full circle back to Richmond to care for my mom and sister.

Call me crazy, but I’ll take light over dark any day. And, I’ll take warm over cold the same way. The only places I really love ice are in my tea, my cocktails and when it’s cooling off a cooler full of beer.

So, again I look up to the lady who has been shorter than me for most of my life, that little stick of dynamite, my mom. My little darling, mom, is a mom for all seasons, but as for me, I’m a sunshiner!

Sun, sun, sun, here it comes
And I say, it’s alright

Sunshine Daffodils





Posted on

Spring 2014

Behold, my friends, the spring is come; the earth has gladly received the embraces of the sun, and we shall soon see the results of their love!– Sitting Bull

Early last week it was nothing but chilly and cold … it chilled my body and my soul. I had had it with winter.

But, two days ago, things changed … almost over night … without advanced notice … a sunrise surprise … spring had sprung and was painting splashes of bright colors all over the dark, drab ones with giant brush strokes here there and everwhere.

My hands shot up toward the heavens and I shouted, “Hallelujah, you made it!”

Purple Martin MajestyI was not only cheering for spring’s arrival, but the purple martins had also picked this day to come back home … at least to their home in America.

Purple martins and I stand united in our lack of tolerance for winter. In late fall, they escape in mass to South America, and spend the winter months in the warmth of their second home. Then they fly all the way back here, where they were born, bringing spring with them.

Yep … these little North American citizens fly over 5000 miles each way, each and every year, like clock work. And, here they are, back where they were born, to find a match, and to hatch and raise the next generation.

My mom, dad and sister hoisted five purple martin bird houses up on tall poles in their backyard when they moved back to Richmond, forty plus years ago. That was the same time they planted the daffodils. The one mom is holding sprang up from the roots of those original plants.

As a result of my family’s efforts, Melissa and I will have plenty of daffodils and plenty of purple martins. My guess is, counting the adults and their babies, we’ll have well over a hundred purple martins hanging out and performing their aerial acrobatics for us in mom’s backyard (conveniently located next door to where we live).

My mom’s maiden name is Martin, which we have always said makes the purple Martins and us kin. Birds of a feather stick together!

This will be mom’s 94th spring … and spring has always been her favorite season.

Spring is a time of renewal, restoration, resurrection … it is a time for rejoicing.

Hallelujah, you made it!


The Story of the Seasons and the Trees

The oaks and the pines, and their brethren of the wood, have seen so many suns rise and set, so
many seasons come and go, and so many generations pass into silence, that we may well wonder
what ‘the story of the trees’ would be to us if they had tongues to tell it, or we ears fine enough to
understand.– Anonymous

One thing’s for sure mom, like the brethren of the wood, has seen so many suns rise and set, so many seasons come and go …

She has witnessed ninety-one, going on ninety-two, winters (mom was born Christmas Day, 1919), springs, summers, and falls.

And, yes, her world still has seasons.

Her ninety-one years on this planet have sharpened all five of her senses that are  indelibly linked to the changes the four seasons bring.

She does not mince words when describing seasons or the weather.

Summer is too hot and too bright. Winter is too cold and too dark. Fall and spring are not too hot, not too bright, not too cold and not too dark. Fall and spring are “just right” … mom’s words for perfect.

Mom’s heating and air conditioning bills attest to my commitment to try and make all the seasons “just right” for her.

As for mom’s take on the weather, when it rains or snows, it’s too wet. When it’s not raining or snowing, it’s too dry. Thunder is too loud and shaky, and lightning blinks and is way too bright.

And that’s it … except for spring and fall. Rain, even if it comes equipped with thunder and lightning, is encouraged and applauded.

For mom, springtime is for rejuvenation, jubilation and celebration. She instinctively knows everything and everyone made it through the too cold and too dark winter season and that she is ready to rejoice and embrace the “just right” new season with open arms and warm heart. It is the season of Resurrection, rebirth and promise.

I believe spring is mom’s happiest season … springtime in Virginia that is!

For the last couple of weeks, mom has talked non-stop about what she sees on our drive to and from adult day care.

“Look at that, Tom! Look at that tree! It is putting its clothes back on! And so are all those others! Can you believe it?!”

“What color are their clothes, mom?”

“Green! A wonderful green! All of those trees were so sticky when they were cold … just sticks (in the winter). Now they look great!” Do you see those trees? Don’t they look great?!”

“Yes, mam!”

“They should be in a magazine, don’t you think so? They were nothing but naked and out in the cold.  Now they are putting all of their clothes back on. Look at that … they are all wearing green. Just look at that!”

“I love it, mom! Everything is right with the world.”

“I love it, too! I just really love it! Look at that one and that one, Tom (pointing to trees on both sides of the road) … they are so big now! Have you ever seen trees so big in your life?!”

“No mam, never have. I’ll say it again, everything is right with the world … just right … that’s what it is, mom. Just right!”

Out of nowhere, mom starts singing one of her favorite songs of late, Bringing in the Sheaves, but this time she substitutes leaves for sheaves.

She is singing at the top of her voice and I am singing right along with her, “Bringing in the leaves, bringing in the leaves, we will come rejoicing, bringing in the leaves.”

And, I believed that if I only had ears fine enough to understand, the trees were singing in perfect harmony with us.

There was not a doubt in my mind that mom was hearing them loud and clear.

%d bloggers like this: