Yellow Flowers or Dot's Candy Bowl

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yellow flowers brought to me, yesterday

Yesterday was a day of, warm sunshine, sunny skies, and almost cold winds off of the lake. While I sat on my front porch, watching my two and a half year old grandson play at digging in the bark chips, while simultaneously guiding his seven month old brother from eating the spring debris off of the ground, I couldn't help but think of a similar time with my own children.

The difference is now, I feel less restless. Less like I should be doing something else, which years ago seemed more pressing then listen to one small child talk, or enjoying the gurgle song of a baby.

When I was brought back from my reverie by a small hand bringing to me yellow flowers, (or as he says "lellow" flowers, so pretty", he can't say his "y's yet.), placing the small blossoms into my hand with a delicacy that belies his youth.

This, of course, reminded me of all of the yellow flowers I had brought to my Aunt Dorothy, who wasn't really my aunt, but I loved keenly.

Aunt Dorthy was a older woman, a friend of my mother's. She was much older then my mother, and was in very poor health. Because of this, all of the women in our church each took a day a week or month to help her out.  My mother went every Tuesday, while others went less often or more often, depending on their situation.

Aunt Dorthy had a large pink plastic bowl with a lid that had the words "Dot's Candy" on it. Which to me as a child, was amazing. I had never seen a bowl filled with candy anywhere else in my small life.

I'm not sure just exactly when I learned, but I can't remember a time when I didn't know, if you brought Aunt Dorthy flowers, she would roll over on her homemade wheelie chair, reach down to the bottom cabinet in her tiny kitchen, and pull out her candy bowl. Then she would take off the lid, thrust it out to you, as she manipulated her false teeth in her mouth with her tongue, saying, "take a piece, oh, go on take another, those flowers were really pretty".

I love that little hand as he pointed out how pretty that one was

The day my mother would go to her house to help her, by changing the sheets, doing laundry, and what ever else she did there, I would be sent outside to play. Typically, I would bring many books and read outside under the willow trees that framed her yard. Sometimes I would play with the children that lived next door. If fact some of those children have grown up to be my dearest friends, even to this day.

Looking back, I now realized my mother looked forward to these days with Aunt Dorthy. While the work was the same as it was at home, the comradery of doing these tasks while visiting with a kind friend, who was grateful for the help, must have been a boost to her. I know there was very little of the grateful at home for my mother.

At some point during the day, either alone or with one of the neighboring children, I would search the yard for some "flowers" to pick, I am sorry to say, only thinking of the candy. Typically, the only specimens to be had, reliably, were dandelions. So, most of the time, these were the flowers picked.

The delivery to Aunt Dorthy will always be on of my fondest memories. After a timid knock on the kitchen door, she would welcome you in, demand you come over for a hug, where she would pull you in to her ample bosom, saying, "what have we here? Flowers! I love flowers. You deserve a piece of candy, come, let's see what is in my bowl!"

My mother would say, "Naomi, what do you say?" Aunt Dorthy would counter with, "No, no Margie, I'm thanking her for the lovely flowers, not the other way around. Come here, give me a kiss." Aunt Dorthy was kindness personified.

Which is why, when my little guy brought me flowers today, I gave him a hug, while considering silently,

about getting my own version of Dot's Candy bowl for the future.