by Sandra Hutchinson
Note: this piece was originally written when my two now-adult sons were youngsters.
What I remember most about Mother’s Day as I was growing up, are the various flowers and plants I would give my mom as gifts. I don’t know whether this was something I learned from my teachers, my Girl Scout leaders or my father, who was an avid gardener. What I do know is that May meant lilacs and lilies of the valley and apple blossoms, all of which I would collect and arrange in glass jars with ribbons tied around their necks, to be given to my mother on that Sunday in May.Continue reading