We sat peacefully in the fragrance of freshly-mown grass…
My mother and I are spending more time together since her split with the man that had his priorities. She and I are doing much better since we have learned to accept each other’s differences. I’ve been mowing her lawn once a week since the Spring has sprung. We sat on her back patio and enjoyed each other’s company.
There was a lot of discussion about the plot of land and the house, for the same lawn I had mowed yesterday was the one we had been caring for since we were kids. The house was the same one we had grown up in. The property belonged to her parents long before she and her soon to be ex-husband purchased it. Two one hundred-plus year-old Pecan trees provide a regal canopy that has been there as far back as we can remember within our childhoods. Trees that are probably ninety feet tall, or more. We talked about these for a bit, and how they never produce the Pecans like they used to. We had discussions about the little buildings that are no longer on the property. The plants and trees that have come and gone. We talked about her parents–the way she knew them, long before they were who they were as my grandparents. We had discussions about her brother that had fallen to the ground while shaking Pecans from one of the trees. The impact ruptured his spleen, and mother has told me many times about the dirt that was packed within his ear from hitting the ground so hard. We talked about him dying from brain cancer, and how their mother was never the same. She said that their mother had lost her joy after his passing. She told me about how she would close all of the blinds in the house and sit in the dark. She loved her son.
It was a peaceful evening. I had my own thoughts while observing the memories and the emotions that accompanied. I watched my mother’s profile from behind my sunglasses. I see her and I aging and growing, and I also see the past. Where does it go? Moving forward, we are getting to know each other in ways we never had before. The two marriages she was in before just wouldn’t allow it, or maybe it was just me who wouldn’t? Being on the patio and enjoying those moments was somehow as pleasant as the fragrance as the grass.