Mom's clematis

I'd like to think that all my images are special... well, at least to me...but some are decidedly more special than others. There are the shots that took a lot of time and effort to capture. There are the magical moments I watched and photographed of my kids, grandkids, friends, and students. And then there's this image, which, at first glance, appears to be nothing more than a decently composed photo of a Clematis blossom. That's true enough, but the truly special part lies in the origin of the flower. This was my mom's Clematis, a vine she nurtured and treasured at the house on 108 Deerfield Road in Cranston that I and my brothers and sisters grew up in. When Jeanne passed away in 2006 at that very same home, we kept the plant going while we decided what to do with the old place. Eventually, we opted to sell it—none of us needed the house—but among the tangible memories we took with us, I opted for the Clematis. While it survived being transplanted, it stubbornly refused to blossom. A couple of years ago, I decided to try it in a new venue. The gamble surprised all of us by working. More than a decade after putting forth flowers, it bloomed once more. I could feel my mother smiling.