Inky Orchard

This is the second (or third?) Mother’s Day in a row which I have spent hundreds of miles away from my Momma. Last year I was in France, and on that day I had to get creative with how to send my love. My solution was to send a very beautiful photograph of some gigantic roses growing around a window, taken in Oppede Le Vue. Along with a digital letter.

The other day, two days ago to be precise, I took a random walk on a lovely evening. I had just left the library and found the weather outside surprisingly pleasant following the hours of gloomy clouds and thunderstormy conditions. So I took a walk down Tattnall Street and found a part of Savannah I’d never seen before! I was greeted by all kinds of marvelous & tiny Rachel-sized discoveries, but this one stuck out to me: a whole wall with vivid blue-violet hydrangea growing along it. Carefully tended, as my Momma taught me when I was younger. It takes a lot of work to get hydrangea to bloom this blue color and grow healthily. (I think we bought a small bush once in TN, standard pink color, and we tried to feed it the minerals it needed to become blue. Didn’t work out exactly.) So whenever I see a hydrangea bush blooming in vivid, deep shades of blue and purple, I think of the man or woman who must have given it so much care. And I think of my Momma, who taught me most of what I know about trees and all sorts of plants and flowers.

I distinctly remember driving with my mom into town when I was growing up, going down the mountain’s sharply curving roads, making a game out of tree identification. She seemed to know what every tree was, and I wanted to test my  knowledge. I also remember those tall, narrow, vertically-oriented braniac flip books with a conglomeration of information on one particular subject. You could learn your presidents, multiplication tables, or maybe fish. I liked the one on trees.

So this post’s purpose is not just to highlight my limited understanding of hydrangea bushes or recall fun memories from my childhood. Today I celebrate how blessed I am to have such an amazing mom. She’s the best, and I’ve never ever wanted another. My family is such a blessing from God. Mom, you have shown me Christ’s love my whole life and didn’t know it. Especially lately, I’ve been able to see how much you give to us. Constantly. Without question. Completely selflessly. I screw up, I do something horrible? You love me the same. I’m sick & weak? You tuck me in (or call me and tell me how much you love me when I’m away.) I’ve need your help at midnight? You answer the phone anyway to listen to me, even though you’re tired. I mention the amazing cinnamon raisin bread I had for breakfast in Alabama? You send me a loaf through the mail. I love you so much, Momma. All you are. All you do. Who you are. Who God has made you and is making you to be. How you love us. You’re amazing. No question. I’m proud that you’re my mom. You’re more than just a good example for me or an authority figure or a band-aid giver. The role God has given you being our mother day in and day out, and because of your endless love and giving… you’ve be instrumental in shaping who we’ve become. God blessed me, through you. He crafted me, through you, in a way. I think that’s one of the most special things there is.

I love you, Momma. These are just words and pictures- my attempt to say thank you and celebrate you a little extra today.

Self Family – Taken November 2010