Nine months ago, we feared for her garden. "Her garden" meaning the entirety of the yard, and most of the shelves and window sills inside the house.

How could things survive without her daily care?

But the peaches and nectarines and cherries have all managed to bloom and produce without her help. Along with most of her flowers. Not that they've been neglected. While their care may not be as regular and attentive as our mother could provide, most of her plants are thriving still.

Especially her roses.

What is missing is her knowledge. Flowers pop up, and we know not what they are. Like this blue blossom, favored by bees.

And this lily.

But the lesson of it all is this... what we create in this world does not simply evaporate when we pass on to the next. It lingers. Partly new,

and partly unchanged.