girl, Aunty Frances had made lamb roast for tea and I was excited.
wasn't all good, because Aunty Frances had put rosemary in the meat.
As a little girl with little knowledge of herbs, I asked "What's
rosemary?" To which I received the response, "Poison." Perplexed about
why Aunty Fran would put poison in the meat, I looked to her and she
said "He's telling fibs. Don't worry about it." No one told me,
however, that rosemary was not, in fact, poison. So I went on
believing it for years. After many years, I began calling by my Dad’s
house for the poison when making a lamb roast, and recently planted
the Uncle Dan Memorial Rosemary. Afterward, I headed to say a Rosary
for the repose of his soul at his parish church. The poison is in a
pot on my balcony. It’s sitting by the parsley, across from the basil.
If it lives forever, well, Dan is living forever too. If it dies, I'll
just attribute that to Uncle Dan making it through the pearly gates.
Helen, I loved your story. Thank-you!