Lavender Mornings and Periwinkle Nights

“So I tell you, don’t worry about everyday life – whether you have enough food, drink, and clothes.  Doesn’t life consist of more than food and clothing?”
Matthew 6:25 (New Living Translation)
 
Lavender Mornings and Periwinkle Nights
 
I hate the snow.  I really hate the snow.  Let me qualify that a little.  I hate driving in the snow.  When I get up on a workday and look out the window and there is snow for me to contend with, tears come to my eyes as I anticipate the stress of getting to work that day.  Stress caused by the multitude of drivers on the roads that don’t appear to recognize that snow creates a condition requiring a slower and more cautious pace of travel.  Stress caused by knowledge that I am going to be honked at for quite some miles as I make my way to work.  Stress caused by the feeling that it just doesn’t seem right to risk my life to get to work, but that is the reality and the way of life today.  Everything may be sacrificed for work.  Work is top priority in this 24/7 world. 

I was lucky this past Thursday.  It had snowed enough Wednesday that school was closed the following day.  Since it had taken me an hour and a half to get home from my job at the school district the night before (and generally, it would take 25 – 30 minutes), I breathed a great sigh of relief when the call came that school was cancelled on Thursday.  Then I proceeded to catch up on e-mails, read, clean and make some calls.  I met a friend for lunch, and as I drove out of my complex, realized 8 Mile Road was still not cleared.  It was treacherous, in fact, and I was thankful again that I did not have to face it in all the traffic earlier that morning.  All in all, Thursday was a great day – a snow day.

To make up for missing work Thursday, my department had to work Saturday.  Saturday morning, I got up early, showered, dressed for work, packed a lunch, and with some trepidation, exited my apartment.  It was a lavender morning. You know, where you walk outside in the twilight just before dawn and with the snow and the cloud cover and perhaps just a hint of light from an early sunrise behind the clouds, everything was twinkling and lavender.  Flashbacks to childhood moments when we lived in a small town in rural Vermont came into my head.  A moment when I was alone in the backyard building a snowman; alone until my mom came out to help with a big smile on her face.  A moment when I had walked home from school between huge walls of snow and the tears rolled down my face because I was so cold.   And when I reached our house, I knocked on the door.  Mom opened it and I cried “I think I have frostbite!”  I remember she laughed and pulled me in and fed me some warm soup or hot cocoa to get me warmed up.  But I remember most being warmed by the warmth in her eyes and in her laugh.  Those were lavender moments.

It snowed all day Saturday while we were at work and I felt some stress build up through the day – what would the drive home be like?  Another hour and a half obstacle course filled with loud horns and obscene gestures? 
 
I left just as the sun was setting.  The roads were not bad at all and there was very little traffic out there that evening.  As I got closer to home, the scenery changed from industrial to suburban, the sun disappeared, and nighttime descended.  It was a periwinkle night.  You know, the kind of night where it seems almost as light as day because the moon illuminates the clouds and the snow with its ethereal bluish light.  Another flashback to Vermont.  Mom asking me if I would like to do something very special one night – go ice-skating on a pond with a few other girls and their mothers.  And I remember being so very excited as we left, bundled up in snowsuits, hats, mittens and scarves.  In my young mind, I was sure it was midnight at least, but it was very light out.  And here I was getting to ice-skate at midnight with “the girls”.  That was a periwinkle moment.
 
Lord, thank you for the job that provides food and clothing for me.  Thank you, even more, Lord, for a mom that provided lavender mornings and periwinkle nights to those around her throughout her entire lifetime.  Thank you for her beautiful smile, her lilting laugh, her unfailing grace that allowed her to be joyful in all circumstances. I marvel at the beauty you create in this world, which my mom captured both in her spirit and in her artwork.  Beauty that inspires treasured moments like these with my mom that I can call to mind when I begin to feel stressed during everyday life today. 

By Kathy Brown in loving memory of:

Ann Marie Brown
1937 – 2007

Favoured Grace

Time passed far too quickly for me.

I want to see mom's face again,
The laugh wrinkles in the corners of her eyes,
The impish Irish grin that showed the little gap between her two front teeth,
The beautiful freckles I was so envious of.

I want to hear mom's voice again,
The soprano voice that sung around the house when I was little,
The laugh that got us all laughing with its contagiousness,
The voice calling out "Bingo!" even as recently as Christmastime.

I want to smell mom's flowery perfume again,
The cinnamon she used to boil on the stove,
The turpentine she used to clean her paint brushes,
The candles she would burn in the kitchen.

I want to taste mom's salmon patties one more time,
And her extra hard-boiled poached eggs on toast,
And her oatmeal with raisins, pecans & brown sugar,
As well as her lowfat Dr. MacDuggal's spaghetti sauce with turkey sausage.

I want to kiss mom's forehead once again,
And hold her hand in an attempt to comfort her,
And touch the sparse hair that was once plentiful on her head,
And smooth the wrinkles from her brows that had not yet turned completely grey.

I am grateful that I will be seeing mom again in heaven,
Because of her faith and my faith in God,
Who sent His Son to die for our sins,
And my fervent prayer is that you will be seeing mom again, too.

Ann M. Brown (1937 - 2007)

BROWN, ANN MARIE; age 69; of Commerce Township, MI; passed away April 13th, 2007. Beloved wife of Douglas Brown; daughter of Albert and Clare Tierney O'Brien; dear mother of Kathleen Brown, Dale Brown, Judith (Scott) Wager, Karen (Kurt) Jacobson, and Jacqueline (John) Bronicki; she is survived by three grandchildren Stephanie, Anna, and Alex. Thank you to all friends and family whom she loved. You can visit her web site and leave a note at www.caringbridge.org/visit/annbrown Memorial Service Friday, April 20th at 11 a.m. at the Universalist Unitarian Church of Farmington, 25301 Halsted, Farmington Hills. Memorials to the American Library Association at www.ala.org.

April 13, 2007

My beautiful, wonderful mom passed away today at the young age of 69 years. I will miss her so very much. Please pray for my family as we come to terms with life here without Mom.

www.caringbridge.org/visit/annbrown

tears

For Mom

Dear God I come to you tonight
To bow and give you all my fright
Of things that are and things to be
With mom, my family, and me.

Oh Lord, more faith is what I need
I pray my words become your seed
That grace and kindness, mercy, too
Flow out of me because of You.

I pray that mom is one of yours
And that she knows your open doors
That Christ is on her mind today
And she prays to you without delay.

I pray, Oh God, her time's not up
That there's life yet within her cup
Oh Lord, you know our need of her
My family's lonely pacifer.

My Lord, my heart be humbled yet
My sins, Oh God, you would forget
So prayers can flow from me to you
Because of love, not what I do.

In Jesus' name I pray. Amen.