originally published April 20, 2019
My mom’s middle name could have been Holiday Festive, and regardless of the occasion, she could produce appropriate tableware, costumes/outfits, and decorations at a moment’s notice. She was the queen of making something out of nothing. She was also one of the first people in our neighborhood to make an “egg tree” out of plastic eggs and a dormant spring bush in our front yard. Friends and neighbors would gush over her efforts and she would smile happily. Ever the moody teenager, I would roll my eyes.
Each year she continued to decorate the egg tree to the delight of my nieces and nephews. “Go stand by the egg tree, I’ll take your picture,” Mom would say. While I demurred, her grandkids would stand beside the little bush with big smiles.
Looking out the front window of our house, she would hug me. “Do you like my egg tree?” she asked happily ignoring my sulkiness. I shrugged.
It’s been more than thirty years since my mom lived in that house I grew up in, and she has since passed away. An older lady lives down the road from us and she recently decorated an egg tree in her front yard. I saw her the other day and impulsively called out, “I love your egg tree.”
I hope it brings her joy and that her grandchildren love it. I hope her daughter will have wonderful memories of it, and that she knows how much her kids love and appreciate her even if they don’t say it as often as they should.
Thank you, Mom, for my wonderful, loving memories. Easter blessings, Everyone.
Once Upon a Willow 