Anyone who has seen my mother's garden knows there aren't any flower beds. Instead she has a million plants potted in wild-off-the-wall-country-scrap-containers. So when my mother said she wanted a rusty old bed for her garden, I assumed she was going to turn it into a pun, creating a flower bed. You know where she could grow flowers in place of the springs and mattress. But I assumed wrongly… she had every intention of putting a rusty old bed in her garden for nap taking.
Photo: Marie, my niece looks like a pretty daisy doesn't she? I think her band-aids are the true colors of sweet run and play childhood.
I was happily surprised about the rusty bed idea. Don't get me wrong I love my mother's sense of style; her way with making something ordinary look extraordinary. Rarely does she buy something and use it for what its made for… Colanders are not just for draining pasta or rinsing strawberries in my mother's garden anything can be everything with a little imagination.
When my mother and I go to an antique store, or a garage sale or an antique auction I never worry that she will buy the things I have my heart set on. We have very different taste. We make good-going together-partners because of it.
The other day I encouraged her to go antiquing with me. I told her we needed to breath and do something to let our minds and hearts take a small break. She didn't want to… it is hard for her to enjoy life without having my father around she said to me, "…in time, in time I will Corey but not today."
You see I can be darn pesky, I kept bugging her by planting the seed, "antiquing just one or two shops or a yard sale perhaps…." Finally I told her to think of something she wanted and if she could imagine it then chances were she would find it. She looked me straight in the eye and said, "I want a rusty old bed to put in the garden so someone could take a nap outside if they wanted to."
Low and behold, and I kid you not, the very next yard sale we stopped at she found the rusty old bed with a perfect peeling red patina! I thought to myself, "…think diamonds, think big baby big!" Later I would shake my head and say to myself she found what she was looking for in that rusty old bed.
Happiness is seeing her take small steps towards re- entering her life.
Planting seeds while she dreams in her garden.
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