Mom's Butterflies and Bees

My mother was fascinated with butterflies and bumble bees. I found it silly. How could someone her age find amazement in insects?

Then momma died. Routine died as well. As did security and habit. Forget predictability, it too had passed.

Suddenly, I found myself feeling very small and very alone. I realized that it was there in the solitude that butterflies and bumble bees and such become valuable and precious. When you shut the humans out, you let the nature in. It was a process that I had to go through to understand. I cherish my memories of sitting on the porch with my momma as she spoke of the ever-so-busy insects in her garden as if they were a part of our family. I miss those moments and I find myself yearning for the season when the butterflies and bees will return to what is now my garden.

Sleeping Freckles

As I lie here typing away on my laptop, my 5 year old niece is asleep next to me.  She is here for a visit. Her eyelashes are those that most women only dream of. Her freckles are perfect, each one strategically placed by God. Her hair is a unique blend of brown shades, just like mine was at that age. Her breath quietly whispers as she dreams. Before she drifted off to sleep, she said "Aunt Tami when I go back to Colowado soon I'm going to miss you weally a whole whole lot again." She just got here to Texas tonight. I forget sometimes what it is like to be completely open to let someone sit smack-dab in the center of my heart. Then, this freckle-faced bundle of innocence comes around and I am reminded.

I remember when this precious child was still in my sisters womb. I remember saying to Heather, "I want to be that Aunt... the Aunt that all of the kids cannot wait to go visit."

Just like my Aunt once was to me.