|Golden crocus among the snowdrops|
Boy, those golden crocuses sure looked a lot more brilliant when I leaned over to photograph them. I also noticed a few snowdrops mixed in, and figured that it would be a good enough shot to display on my blog. At least there are burgeoning spring flowers, and these snowdrops won't melt.
When I noticed that it's the first of the month again, and the first of March to boot, it brought back a long-ago memory of what this day once meant to me: it is the anniversary of my first marriage, in 1961. Wow, I thought to myself, it's been a half century since then! Are you noticing that I seem to have misplaced a decade? Yes, it's been sixty years!
My first husband, Derald, was also the father of my two sons. Now all three of them are gone, and here I am, writing a post sixty years after that distant day, with only memories (and a few pictures) left. If I ever need a reminder of how old I have gotten, all I have to do is dust off my treasure box of recollections. Or, failing that, count the aches and pains that visit me every day.
In spite of all that, I am more than grateful for what my current treasure box contains: a wonderful place to live, a sweet husband who cherishes our relationship, enough physical ability to get outside into the forests and wild places that surround me, and friends and family members who brighten my days.
|March 1, 1961|