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# May 10, 2020
- URL: https://www.jamesreeves.co/seeds/
- Published: 2020-05-10T13:55:40.000Z
- Updated: 2025-11-15T03:50:23.000Z
- Author: James A. Reeves
- Tags: Autobiography, Notebook

Today is Mother’s Day. There are still so many emotions that I will not or cannot unlock. I planted some tomato seeds in a small pot on my windowsill. This seemed like a decent way to remember the days I spent by her side drinking sun tea while she “played in the dirt,” as she liked to say. When I was little, she forced me to run errands by myself to make sure I didn’t develop her anxieties, her bouts with agoraphobia. She loved to watch sailboats. Whenever she saw a motorboat, she’d crinkle her nose and call it a ‘stinkpotter’. I remember the way she’d stand in the kitchen and say she wasn’t just going to turn over a new leaf but a whole tree. 

This is dedicated to everyone who has lost their mothers. I try to find solace in these instructions from Epictetus: do not say something is lost, only that it is returned.