Dia de Bloglandia

My mother, Rosetta Marie Hand

As mentioned in my previous post, the picture above has been put in a safe place. A place I can't recall right now! But I share this photo as it is showin in a page of our family scrapbook.

Rose passed away on mother's day of 1985, at the age of 67. She would occasionally say she had premonitions of impending danger or death. As a child, she awakened abruptly one night and, in the seconds just upon awakening, saw the image of a cousin emblazoned upon her closed bedroom door. The following day, he was the victim of an accident, which killed him. She had 'a knack', she said, for sensing impending important events, although she didn't really welcome this sensitivity, and avoided drama whenever possible.

Within a few weeks of her death, my brother, traveling away from home, started to cross a street and heard my mother say something to him. He turned to see a rapidly moving car approaching him. Forewarned, he was able to jump to avoid being pinned between it and the parked car it smashed into. He has mentioned two other instances when my mother alerted him to danger, although I don't now recall the particulars. Clearly, he has inherited some of her gift.


Gladioli, one of Rose's favorite flowers

My mother loved flowers and was a floral designer in the later years of her life here. She was one of the kindest people I've ever known, with a pragmatic and dignified persona. She was independent and serious, the result of a very early marriage encouraged by her own mother, who had too many children at home to feed. Rose married early, had children early, and had to work to keep the family together because my father was often not dependable. Regardless, she was very successful, giving us a sense of safety and possibility we otherwise would not have known. My mother was a strong, yet private, woman who was athletic, loved playing cards, listening to her grown sons tell jokes, and creating beautiful things with her hands.

Rose, with two of her sons, two grandsons, and me.

I understand that one of the traditions of Day of the Dead is to eat some of the favorite foods of our loved ones. My mother loved an occasional dinner of liver and onions. Being the last (by far) of her six children, I lived with her through my teen years and found it very difficult to be in the house when she was preparing this fabulous feast for herself. So I'm hoping she will forgive me if I don't indulge in a repast of liver and onions today. However, she also loved cake and ice cream. And isn't it wonderful? I happen to have both of those things on hand!

As mentioned earlier, I prepared the background banner page above to honor her, but no rose, real or fashioned, will ever be as beautiful as she is.

In honor of treasured ones who have gone before us, may we remember and celebrate their passage here, the things they gave to us, and our good fortune to have shared some time with them and all that made them unique!

Thank you, mom. I love you!