63° and Patchy rain nearby
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by Jane Stahl
The first thing my mother saw from her hospital window when she awoke after my birth was a field of yellow daffodils. And so, daffodils became my birthday flower.
My birthday is April 2, but my dad always brought me daffodils on April 1. He insisted that April Fool's Day was my real birthday.
Mother, he explained, was determined NOT to bring any child of hers into the world on the fool's day; and so, he explained, mother was not letting doctors near her until the day had officially ended.
He might be right; I was born at 1:15 a.m. on April 2!
When my father passed, my husband took over the tradition. Yellow blossoms have greeted me each April 1. Determined to bring home the finest samples has been a chore some years.Sometimes he was successful when Easter fell near to the day and flower shops were loaded with them. Other years, he found none yet available or well past their prime.
Happily, today, since we have planted the bulbs over the years, my daffodils bloom "just in time" in our backyard, and he has plenty to pick--fresh--to start the day my dad calledmy day!
But my daffodil story includes the stubborn ones by our garage--volunteers--that years agobroke through macadam, resolved to live, and have spread--defying my husband's annual determination to kill them. I take a lesson from their toughness!
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