Today is my 18th wedding anniversary. Mom was usually the only one who sent us a card. Ron sent a card this year. Thank you, Brother, for remembering and knowing that I'd be missing Mom a little more today. Doug and I were married in a small ceremony w/ just our parents and the justice of the peace standing on a peninsula of Lake Ahquabi in Indianola, Iowa. Mom made my dress, a simple ivory satin tea-length. She also made my bouquet using flowers from her garden including the small pink flowers whose only name I've ever known as Mom's Mother's Flower. I don't even know if that means her biological mother or the mother who raised her. Mom served as the witness on our marriage license.
Other tidbits of thoughts and memories of her creep into my conscience at the most unusual times. I was making a white sauce for dinner tonight and while stirring it I was reminded of the first time I made vanilla pudding from scratch. I'd received the recipe in my junior high home economics class and made it one night for dessert. I was so proud when she used the same recipe for her raisin creme pie. It wasn't even my recipe, but I had brought it to her and in my young mind that was as good as ownership. Mom was always so complimentary toward all my cooking and cleaning efforts whether they really deserved them or not.
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