Watering

The other day, in what seems like a futile effort to keep my lawn green, I sat outside and sprayed down the grass. One of my sprinklers is broken, so while the one in the front yard sprayed on and on, I manually watered the back yard.

As I dragged the hose from place to place, I was taken back a few years to those summers when my mom would have to drag the sprinkler over our entire yard every day to keep the grass green. I distinctly see her throwing the sprinkler end of the hose as far away from her as she could, while she "ran" in the opposite direction, trying to avoid the spray of the water.

You see, my mom was always an early riser. I think this had more to do with stress than genetics, although her dad was a farmer, and he was up between 4 and 5 every morning. Now that I think about it, his early waking was probably due to stress, as well. So she routinely woke up at 4 AM, and started with the watering. By the time I dragged my sleepy head out of bed around 9, most of the yard was watered sufficiently. But there were always times when the watering had to continue throughout the day, due to heat, or needing to get the grass extra nice for a back yard party, or whatever reason.

Standing in the middle of my own yard, and feeling the sense of pride that comes with taking care of it, I was moved to tears, and my eyes watered as I watered the lawn. I won't see her moving that sprinkler around again. I won't see her slipping her shoes off as she comes in the house fluffing her hair to get the water droplets off of it. It's those little things that get me when I least expect it.

I miss her.