She was so blessed. How many people can say they were loved and nurtured by two mothers? She was born a bit early…just could not wait for spring. Her mother, Colombe, would visit her family every day off work which was Sunday and Monday.
It was Monday and Colombe felt so much energy that day. She was on pins and needles. She pushed the sled with her two year old all the way to visit her sister who had just gave birth to her third child, a girl, named Maryline and lived next door to their parents. Colombe had chosen that same name for her baby if it was a girl so she felt a bit annoyed that she would have to choose another name. Marilyn being the most popular name in the 50’s.
Later at almost one in the morning, Tuesday, March 9th, Colombe gave birth to a baby girl, in her mother’s bed…
(c)’16
her first cry
safe in both their arms,
baby girl loved
(c) Tournesol ’16-03-06
Daily moments, fleeting thoughts on this Sunday, March 6th 2016
The view of fresh fallen snow offers a promise of hope. She looks at the pure whiteness from her bedroom window and smiles. It was a welcoming mild day compared to the arctic weekend she’d just passed…the snow would be heavy yet sticky, just the right consistency to make snow forts, snowballs and snowmen. She saw children giggling and sliding in her mind’s eye.
Walking on the snow-covered sidewalks she noticed the grey skies threatening more snow but it was too mild…surely it may turn to rain or sleet. Mother Nature can get overwhelmed with the earth’s heating; she seemed dazed and confused.
Later shuffling through snow, its texture reminded her of cookie dough batter. You know when you add butter to that fluffy white flour and beat it until it all blends together. Her mind wandered to old childhood memories. Her GrandMaman would let her lick the bowl of batter…how she loved adding just a smidgen of sugar on the raw dough.
GrandMaman would spread the batter and let her granddaughter choose the cookie cutters of shapes of animals, stars or hearts depending on the occasion. Her favourites were the star and heart.
Walking along the street streets, she looked up at the grey skies
Memories of long ago so vivid, she can taste it. A young girl walks to school in the bitter cold. Crunch crunch, echo from her tiny feet. White smoke comes out her mouth like magic and dewdrops trickle from her eyes clouding her vision.
florets smaller than springtime buds sit on eyelashes
The church was filled with people of her past, close friends, colleagues and family. It felt so bizarre being in this house of worship. This was where she received five sacraments…only one left to go. The voice of the priest interrupted her thoughts now and then.
At the reception a few old high school friends offered their condolences. Her first high school sweetheart looked like a caricature of his teen-self decades ago adding jowls and lots of wrinkles on this stranger’s face. She was touched by his presence; his husband was introduced to me too. How life was different then, she thought. At least today society seems a little more open. Leaving a small, gossipy and unforgiving town helps too.
(shadorma)
young lovers
wishing life were fair
eagerly
expecting
sweet innocent love affairs
dreams just may come true
That night she rummaged through her bedroom closet and took out her old childhood jewelry box. Sitting on the bed, she opened it and tears streamed her face as the music box played Lara’s Theme. Looking through the old memories, she held a pin her mother had given her when she had “become a woman”. It was their secret. She held it in her hands and still felt the warmth and love they shared together, that very special bond.
She smiled at a postcard her best friend in Grade 9 had sent her when she had met her first love that summer long ago. She cranked up the music box to feel she was back there in her childhood bedroom years ago. Her fingers felt the sharp edges of the Eiffel Tower. Her art teacher had given her this hoping she would take her gift in painting seriously…she never did get around to that after college…life happened.
At the bottom of the jewelry box was an old photo…her mind traveled back in time.
that first kiss,
sealing promises of dreams
fairy-tale wonder
As a child she used to climb the maple tree at her Grandmaman’s and take the maple seeds and see them float in the air like a helicopter. But sometimes she would just lie on her back on the grass by the river, looking up and pretend they were miniature bananas!
river breeze bananas sway gently takes me far away
The morning after la fête de la St-Jean, waves roll debris on wet sand; seagulls screech for revellers’ leftoversr. Walking on wet sand, she limps to a bench and watches the sun break through the clouds, remembering dancing around le feu de la St-Jean with him.
straw hat shields
greeting new dawn
weathered skin
She remembers her father pointing to the Big Dipper and the Little Dipper; she would scrunch up her nose, squint, trying real hard to see what he could see. Those were times she still looked up to him as her hero. Thank goodness for fond memories of star gazing nights with him.
Heeds directions
unravelling star shaped bears
gazing at the stars
Tournesol dans un Jardin 
