Bouquets for Mena
This day was Sonia’s birthday, but instead of bringing flowers to her mother’s home, she was delivering them to a nursing facility. A practice Sonia began with the first flowers given to her by a date, still felt right. After all, she reasoned, it was her mother who did the birthing. The guys she dated questioned it, but they sent the birthday flowers to her mother anyway.
As Sonia sat with her mother Mena at the large the bay window of the nursing home, they looked out at the freight boats gliding across the Detroit River. Her mother loved the water. She was also enjoying the fresh berries that Sonia added to her breakfast. Sonia watched the stain of blue being being blotted across her mother's teeth, and in the sunlight, she could see the advance of snow in Mena’s hair.
It brought a smile to her to think that after breakfast, her mother would be brushing colour off her teeth and Sonia would be applying colour to her hair. How bizarre.
'The riddle of man and the Riddle of life, are they one and the same? If not, the Riddle's almost done with her mom, and, being left unchallenged, it will go on to eat its way through others.'
What nonsense! She knows her sister Piera will knock the thoughts right out of her the moment she gets back. And then none of the fluff of Sonia’s mind will matter.'
From the musings of Sonia in Advent.