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Pink Feathers



My mother, Helen, loved gladiolus.  My father used to buy them for her at the local farmer’s market when I was five.

As I was driving today, I noticed an elderly man selling flowers and vegies at a little stand alongside the road. He had bunches of these beautiful flowers for sale.

I turned into the nearest driveway, turned around, and parked the car.

My mom had been on my mind as of late.

“These are for you, mom, in honor of all the things you did well, including giving me life,” I thought to myself.

They are sitting on my dresser next to a photo of my brothers not long before their passing.   I hope they all can see them from heaven.  I sure enjoy the view.


By: Patricia ‘Golden Girl’ Lynne


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