In the side yard of the house I grew up in, there was a scraggly old lilac bush. It was tall, and thick, and was never really pruned properly, but the bush didn’t care. Every spring, it would faithfully burst forth with thousands if tiny purple flowers, sweetening the breeze with a scent that, to this day, evokes memories of home, and of happiness.
Now I’m grown and have made my own home, with my own lilac bushes in the side yard. And every spring, just when it’s warm enough to leave the windows open through the day, the wind will occasionally bring that familiar fragrance through the house, and I always smile and think of my Mom, and her lilac bush. I’m often reminded that she also never asked for much, but was always so faithful in her vocation as a mother, and was always around to make us smile, and teach us to find joy in life. And she always was, and is, beautiful.
I love you, Mom. Happy Mothers’ Day.