Just Like You, Mama

My dear friend in high school had a nick name for my mother, “Florabunda.”  She named her that because my mom has always had an affinity for flowers.  Many times along our cross-country trips we would hear, “Oh Gene! Look at the flowers.”  It became a family joke, but it is one thing I love about her.  She taught us the names of the wildflowers, the smell of the lilacs.  She taught us to pause and appreciate nature, the unique beauty of the regions, of ourselves.   This has been a crazy week, so I had no time to make it to the card store.  But another thing she taught us is that it is the gifts from the heart that mean the most.  Happy Mother’s Day, Mom.

Heavy green leaves,

Encircle the delicate flowers

Subtle bells, white and pure

Beckon with soft allure

The Lily of the Valley grew

In patch beside our home

“Don’t they smell sweet?”

“Yes, Mama,” I think, “Just like you.”

Crimson and Yellow

The Maples alter their hue

Sharing their beauty

Changing the view

All around us

The leaves are changing

“Aren’t they beautiful?”

“Yes, Mama,” I think, “Just like you.”

We stand at the base

Looking up

The Sequoia tower

Majestically above

A growing family

Sprouting each day.

“Aren’t they strong?”

“Yes, Mama,” I think, “Just like you.”

A patchwork of color

The wildflowers spread

Beauty and light

All along their path

We drive along the

Empty road, taking it in

“Aren’t they amazing?”

“Yes, Mama,” I think, “Just like you.”

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Being a stay- at-home mom can leave one thirsting for a taste of the outside world, a world in which sentences are composed of more than three words. Being an educator means one is always seeking an opportunity to explore and learn. Being a woman with a need to connect can be a challenge when adult conversations are rare. In wine, I find the marriage of art and science, agriculture and storytelling provides limitless areas to explore. But it is the people that keep me engaged. The tenacity needed to keep the family dream alive, the risk to start anew, the trials and principles. I love the history of the vine, the impact of a season, the sentiment in the bottle. That is why I write. I write to tell their stories, to share a piece of mine. I write to learn as I teach others. I write to connect with new friends, to disconnect from the world. I write to celebrate what makes each of us unique, and that which ties us together.

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