Sharon,

First, let me dry my tears. I had no idea I would be overcome with emotion, reading about Milkweed.

Your article was very informative, Sharon. While we have milkweed here in Phoenix, we pull them fast and I've never seen a bloom. They are beautiful, aren't they?

So now I know about milkweed. But what I really know the most is that Aunt Bett had a great influence of your life, and now mine.

And, yes, "most of the time, that's all we need, just knowing somebody is holding our hand.". Precious.

BeckyBoo

Sorry about the tears, Becky Boo. Sometimes I get them too, when I see an old wildflower from my childhood and it touches my heart with a memory.

One of the things I learned from Aunt Bett is that for everything there is a reason to be. Even the milkweed, because without it, no Monarch butterflies, and not enough life jackets for WW II. Even if it is a pest in some places, it has a reason to be.

Thank you!

Oh, I'm so glad I didn't miss this with losing my computer. Finding a Sharon story is a treasure indeed and if it has Aunt Bett in it, it's a treasure with a cherry on top

I, too, learned things I didn't know about milkweed.

Thank you Sharon! You have the ability to put the reader right there with you climbing up around that ledge and I was right there with you. Thank you for the adventure, the beautiful photo's, and the totally cool information about a plant I've always taken for granted. I'll never look at milkweed now without getting a smile on my face.

vic

Yes, thank you once again, Sharon. For your lovely, heart touching, informative, Aunt Bett stories. Always something to look forward to.

I'm glad you are back with us, Vic. Aunt Bett does have a way of flitting through my mind whenever certain wildflowers come into my sight. Once she starts tugging at a memory I just have to write about it. Thank you.

Polly, thanks. You always say just the right thing.

Probably way too many commas in that blurb, but you get the picture.

It's funny the way memories flit through our minds like that. I'm always coming up with some new old memories of my Aunt Helen. I try to write them down and hang on to them, but a new one is always exciting.

Polly,
You and your commas!!

What's really weird is that along with the memory, sometimes I'll still hear her voice.

"I can't do this, Aunt Bett!"
"Yes you can, Littl'un, yes you can!"

Clear as a bell, I'll hear her.
Same thing with Ninna. I don't think either one of them ever raised her voice.

Sure gives you a warm feeling when it happens, doesn't it.

Mostly. Except when I start to do something that I shouldn't be doing and she says: "Time ain't right."

Ha! That happened recently when I got the bright idea to plant poppies the first of June.
I didn't plant them. Good thing, because I don't think it's rained a drop since then. Even if they had come up, I would have soon had fried poppies with all this heat.

I've learned to never argue with her.

Sharon, I found myself sharing your last line of this precious article with someone recently.

You really made a huge impression on my heart.

Sometimes it's the little things that count most.
Last lines, a hand to hold, a sweet smile, an open heart. Things like that.