Jilly Brandon

The rain kept falling gently and steadily , but from where I was planted from under my gazebo I was protected from the elements.

The air is fragrant, and the scent of jasmine is heavy in the mist. Warm summer rain, wet cement and dark saturated soil fill up my senses .

Sequestered under a tin roof , the steady measured rain drops hit the shelter,and rolled gently off the sides to splash on the patio beneath .

There are not one , but two Mummy birds that decided to build nests for their growing families on either side of the gazebo eves. At first they were nervous when any one of us came underneath the roof and ventured close to them . They may have now accepted us two legged humans with reservation.

We have been careful to observe and respect their space and so far we have been living in harmony, human creatures and birds.

It’s a lovely place to rest and read and lounge and sip easily a sangria loaded with strawberries, oranges, and ice, and read a good book, but today my eyes wandered from the manila pages and the words blur before my tired eyes .

Concentrating on any one thing at a time has oftentimes been an elusive state of being for me. Reading makes me relaxed..sleepy. A nap may be incoming .

My eyes roamed over to the south side of the yard and there was an unexpected pop of color that caught my eye.

Could it be? Was that a wild pink rose blooming where I had not planted it? Upon closer observation I realized it was coming up alongside a grey deadweight of a cinder block .

Unexpected to be sure, but the timing of it was profound to me. This house I now live in with my sons and daughter in law has only been our home since February . I have not planted any roses, but was contemplating planting a rose bush on June 10th. It has been a custom of mine ever since my daughter, Bianca, departed from her earthy home and entered heaven to plant a rose on her birthday , June 10th, and on her death day, September 27th . It has been something tangible and comforting that I could do twice a year to remember and honor one of the hardest, challenging and , most blessed creatures I had the incredible position to mother . I did nothing to deserve her . Caring for her overwhelmed me and caused me to fall broken to my knees on a daily basis . Watching her be tortured by seizures, unable to crawl, sit, walk or learn how to use a bathroom was difficult to accept . She needs to be remembered . Her life mattered . It certainly mattered to me . It mattered to us, her family, friends.

She grew and matured us, taught us about what truly matters in this life . We were changed because of her. I hope, for the better . The simple joy she found from her bed, her wheelchair, or from the floor as she rolled around, often times a beagle or two laying near by and keeping guard was profound .

Was she content, certainly not always but when she smiled or giggled, and her eyes sparkled and danced, all became the right side up in my world .

It was topsy turvy, with nuances that broke us daily, but watching her dependence, and struggles daily on me, and those around her was a lesson in love and trust .

She was patient . She was kind . She was long suffering . And boy did she love . She offered gentle forgiveness.

A rose growing unexpectedly in the wild, by a creek, up a mountain, or in a ditch, or a rose garden was a way for me to mark her life . A dollop of promise, the sweet scent of rose wafting through the air greeting those who pass by with the soft and fragrant hello.

Pause… Breathe deep.. take the time .

It is 10 years that you have been away from my arms . How can that be . You took flight at 17 years of age and this week, today would be turning 27.

I miss your face, your smell, the very essence of you . Touching your little often clenched pink hands, kissing your cheeks, rolling you up in your satin polka dot blankie like a burrito then leaning on you until you laughed, or yelled.. was the best of the best .

The rain hits my face and joins my tears as they creep out of my eyes and fall upon my cheeks . Remembering you is important, but especially on your important dates I enter in physically, and spiritually, and let it simmer in and throughout my day .

I don’t know how I have lived without you . I honestly don’t . Thoughts and memories of you are everywhere, and with each passing year, I miss your beloved sweet self all the more .

A little girl to be nurtured, loved and cared for .

We miss you Bianca , and we love you, and will never forgot what you brought into our lives . A little girl , unable to speak , eat or drink unassisted, with a G-tube, diapers on 24-7, could not sit up , crawl or walk , do anything by herself , brought joy and happiness into our lives and into many lives around her . She was diagnosed with lissencephaly and microcephaly , had seizures daily , and was challenged by life , and yet , the wonder of her has not diminished 10 years later .

Up at the cottage in Muskoka was one of Bianca’a favorite places to be . She loved to go fast in the boat, and loved the water, even though she would gasp at the coldness of it . We even went tubing one time, but my sons wouldn’t drive fast enough, understandably, so she was a tad unimpressed . This makes me laugh . She was a thrill seeker. She did not fit on the sidelines . She participated with everything in her .

We look forward with great hope to being reunited with you in heaven my sweet girl , and I’m not sure who will win the race with being the fastest one to greet you . It may end up being a tackling of sorts, or a pile up , one day soon .. with no more tears, and never having to be apart again .

Until then …. the greatest of these is love 💕