Spiritflower

 The life given on a cold winters night at 2:03 AM by this woman of magnitude and love was the repercussion of my birth. She is a breeze from my favorite flower, the hyacinth, multiple in color and random and growth and beauty. All she has for this child she just met is unconditional love with a tear in her eye. She feels that forever her child is going to be there and palways be the bright star that is out this night, the birth of her youngest and last child. She is a whisper of special moments, is a leader of decency, rainbows of talent and free spirit. My life is love because the woman who gave me life is shining in the line of cars picking up children from day care. People can see she is special and are jealous of her confidence and clear and bright green eyes, willowy walk and appearance of a woman who most likely should've been destined for fame.   But instead she stays here loving her children, my older sister and brother. We are what she lives for and the unfaithful have left. She is alone in the struggles, but never shows us her suffering; never gives us the feeling that she is wallowing in something we cannot understand. Her family, thousands of miles away living near the Baltic Sea where white sand beaches and freezing water are too far to give her the emotional support a single mother of three could need. Phone calls in this language we do not understand, my best friend and I sit on the stairs as she speaks to her mother, father and sister and we giggle at how silly it sounds.  We are young and find it amusing, but this woman, this amazingly brave and determined woman has a brief encounter with the comfort of her loved ones left behind to keep us with her for fear of not being a citizen we could be taken away and she would be alone. She would never leave us she would never go that back to Denmark without us, all of us.  Her hugs are magical in every way. You can feel the warmth in them and how much she cares to the very core of her being about having us with her. She is a blossom in a field of weeds, a rose with no thorns,  A weeping willow with a glorious smile, every days she is the love of our lives because she may not like what we have done if we miss behaved but she will always love us no matter what. How much damage did we do, well, it is forgiven, maybe never forgotten but let go. Get mad and get over it, what a great  lesson to learn. It carries with you into adulthood the Waze she taught us to get out what upsets us and move on. Her and I had trips together just the two of us, they were special. She went on business trips and  would take me out of school and bring me with her I would wander around town so I had never seen all by myself while she was in a meeting, it was the 70s, not like today when everyone has so much fear, a different world then. Casual and peaceful like the  cemeteries she took me to noticing the Gothic Mazza Liam's and the beauteous sculptures as opposed to tombstones. My sister and brother did not understand our fascination it would not go on these excursions. Better for me, I got her to myself. I still walk alone in the cemeteries and feel the spirit gently greet me like I am still a child again seeing the mystery of death and art rolled into one big museum.