For Mother’s Day, my precious son, George returned to me one of my favorite portraits. It was taken over sixty-nine years ago.
I had given it to him:
(1) because I knew he would treasure it and
(2) because our last apartment had no walls (all windows) to hang pictures on.
But he lent it to me, knowing I would be ecstatic … he scheduled it to arrive Mother’s Day weekend, so we could enjoy it in our Victorian cottage for as long as I live. It doesn’t feel like that picture was taken sixty-nine years ago… It feels like yesterday…
Now it hangs from our Victorian picture rails, via a Victorian picture hanger, in our modern, yet Victorian bedroom…
Posted in May 2019
