#NewThisDay Writing From My Photo Stream

Charlie and Suzi walked this morning, early, with me and Frank to the river to plant the rose bushes at the arch. First, it was Frank’s idea for many days: we should go across town to 44 Brush Hill Road where I grew up to get some soil in honor of my parents to plant at the arch. And so, in the early morning, we stopped at 85 Brush Hill - our first home in Sherborn where we lived down the street from my parents – and I took a spade of dirt from the edge of the yard, and then we drove to my parents’ house and I sensed they were watching us from above, and I took a spade of soil and a bit of moss from the edge of the driveway. It moved me deeply that this was important to Frank, to honor my parents. So, we planted the rosebushes at the wedding arch and I added this soil, and we dug up some moss and tucked the roses into that. Gorgeous. Perfect. Better than I ever imagined it. A wedding is happening where we dreamed it. It must be September 7. And the day whiizzed by in a whir of non-stop hurry and happiness and my youngest said to me tonight: Mom, you didn’t even seem stressed all day. What help we had – such family and friends make all good things happen. How supported I felt; an outpouring of spontaneity and generosity from so many. This morning, my husband even secured our dear friend Ron to D.J.! My youngest and I did a dress shuffle too. We switched jumpers because it felt spontaneously right to do so. The groom had his Elvis impersonator too. Why not? Tonight, I went up to put a bit of order into my bedroom - where the bride dressed - and found that before she left the wedding tonight, she scribbled out a letter of thanks and love to me and her father. She said, among other things: I will hope to pay you back some day for all you’ve done. And then I GOT IT. It’s how I felt toward my parents too: but you don’t pay your parents back. You can’t, and they don’t want or need you to! You give to your children the love and generosity given to you. As I sat at the service, looking over the peaceful green river in late afternoon sunshine, I saw the blue heron cross the sky, and soon enough, cross back again. A beautiful omen.