Hanging Pictures
Memory Lane ends with a nail, a hammer, and a teardrop…
I hung my mom's picture today. There she is…wearing her favorite sunhat with a floppy brim. There is a delicate, braided, rope flower, around the top of the brim. Old fashioned and just her style. The blue waves of the brim, curved like an ocean wave, over her kind eyes.
Those honest blue eyes, which match the hat. I never needed a picture to remember those eyes. Powdery blue and clear as the sky.
Never a cloud in the skies of those eyes. Is there a shade of blue called hope? How many shades of blue can there be? So many, but none like thee…This is a shade of blue that existed only once, in all of history. My momma's eyes.
She is smiling here. Her “I love life” smile. Her favorite song by Doris Day, plays just beyond that smile, “Que Sera, Sera! Whatever will be, will be!” Parentheses of melancholy caress her mouth. Wrinkles that smile and bring forth warmth, from her face.
High cheekbones covered in soft ivory skin, with a natural blush. The cute, rounded chin, which runs in the family. Formed somewhere in Ireland and brought here by boat. No makeup, of course, because a flower needs no paint.
I stand back in wonder. This picture could be a watercolor painting. The pastel colors of a lovely…
