Mother’s Day.
After my parents returned to England I sent cards twice yearly, as it’s a different day there. I suspect it may have confused my Mum, but she could never have too many flowers.
Flowers were the last thing Mum held onto. My brother took some from her garden when she was hospitalised.
“My delphiniums!” she exclaimed.
That last time she saw my brother, she told him I’d been in to see her, though I was in New York. I found it comforting that she thought so.
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Mum was a talented homemaker. Throughout the War she ran a boarding house in London which is probably how she learned to improvise, making do with what was available, a skill that later proved valuable in Asia where everything was unfamiliar.
My impression of my mother was that she was unflappable. Having survived those six awful years, I imagine nothing seemed unmanageable.
However I never got to really know my mum deep down. She never spoke of her emotions. She put my father first always and I know it sometimes cost her, though she never said so.
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At the age of 16, I was sent to live with Mum’s sister Kay who quickly became my dearest friend, so I always think of her on Mother’s Day.
Kay’s babies were her dogs but she loved all animals and birds.
She had the same talents as my mother but working every day, she had less time to dedicate to them.
Kay was bubbly and funny. We laughed a lot together. Those are the memories of her that I cherish most.
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Whereas Mum seemed unemotional, Kay was very expressive. Mum had never cuddled, so it was not something I missed, but I loved hugging Kay. She was tiny so her head fit against my shoulder and her hair smelled good.
She was wonderful and I loved her so much.
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Aunty Win, was the middle sister. She trained as a nurse and she remained at home caring for my aging grandma and her disabled brother George.
Win also cared for my brother when he was on holiday from boarding school, after my parents went to Asia. She was to Peter as Kay was to me.
She worked awfully hard, for very little reward. I did not know her well but she deserves to be remembered today.
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All three sisters loved flowers. In Spring, when I was a child, Win used to walk in nearby fields collecting cowslips that she placed in a box and mailed to Mum in London where they arrived quite fresh just hours later.
Win’s greatest treat was to come up to London for the Chelsea Flower Show.
Later on, after Grandma and Uncle George were gone, Win spent some of the extra time she had making wine from an assortment of flowers and leaves. Some of it was quite potent!
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Our lilac is in bloom…
and wild pansies are flourishing.
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A cherry plum threw up stalks behind a hedge and while I was planting seeds, I noticed flowers on the Siberian tea, hiding under the leaves.
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The phlox is out
and non-invasive honeysuckle.
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Those yellow and red flowers (Japanese barberry) and the periwinkle beneath were at the falls in Cohoes, while this grape hyacinth was at the Stillwater blockhouse.
Since I don’t grow many of my own, I borrow flowers wherever I find them!
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Speaking of which….
The other day I misidentified these tiny blue flowers which were in the woods at Stillwater beside the Hudson.
These are azure bluets.
They would want you to know.
Thank you, Carolyn, for your wonderful memories of the beautiful women in your family. I love all the flowers in your garden, and your celebration with the flowers of Mother’s Day.
Joanna
You were lucky to have two ‘mums’, and you gave a great tribute to all three sisters.
Best wishes, Pete.
Both your mum and Aunt Kay were such beautiful women (the photo of you and your mum at the little table must be a precious memory). Wine from flowers and leaves – I think your Aunt Win was a genius! Your flower post is a lovely ode to women who absolutely deserve it!