I have often mentioned my mother loved reading novels. Especially if they were about Indians, pioneer days and stories of the old West. She read so many from the Public Library she had to write down the names of the books to keep from duplicating. I have her old tablet filled with the titles and yellowed with age along with her diaries. My mother was a great observer and wrote her thoughts daily. She was a woman who truly “lived” every day of her life.

She would often tell me of stories she’d read and one in particular had impressed her. She checked out a book which I think was titled “I Heard the Owl Call My Name.” It was a story mainly about the life of a young Indian but woven throughout the book was the belief that when it was time for you to die, you would hear the owl call your name.

Mom had a big owl that stayed in the pines around her property. Anytime she was awake during the night she could hear him calling. Becky who lives in my parents home often tells me about hearing “grandma’s owl.” Some nights I even hear him and I’m doubtful it is the same owl, but for some reason there is always one to call out during the night. Naturally I always feel mom is near when I hear him.

Becky and I were shopping in an Antique and Flea Market at Ozark, MO when we came upon this picture. It is an original oil painting and the tile around the frame certainly demanded attention. It was not only unique but compelling. I had to have the picture and it is one of my most treasured possessions.

What is it that makes you think of your mother? I would like to know because there is usually a standout that brings her immediately to mind. With my daughter-in-law it is pansies. Her mother always had pansies at her door. When I see pansies I immediately think of Barbara and the meaning they have for her. It is something she shared with me one time.

Whatever it may be I hope you have happy memories of your mother whether she is still with you or not. Memories, happy memories are good medicine…..

Essentially Esther