As a child, caterpillars were the worst creature for me to encounter. They were creepy, crawly and fuzzy and I was deathly afraid of them. On the other hand, Sarah, my mother, was not afraid of anything. I learned later in life that she was a monarch butterfly.

It is ironic, however, that her baby girl was afraid of the very thing that would turn into one of the most beautiful creations. The butterfly is magnificent with its various designs of colors. There is more than metamorphosis that happens with the caterpillar that I never realized, but of course, at the time, I didn’t care either.

Of all butterflies, the monarch butterfly is an interesting specimen. They are considered the most beautiful of all butterflies. I always thought my mother to be very beautiful. However, I learned she had many of the same attributes of the Monarch.

Normally, butterflies migrate from the north, south, east and west. They lays their eggs wherever they nest. An internal magnetic compass directs their flight. It’s cool that they have a natural GPS system.  Monarch butterflies regenerate, recreate beauty, and replenish their fold, because that’s their only objective and their only goal.

The ancient Greeks called butterflies “psyche” which means soul. MY mother had a lot of soul and was at times, very psychic. When I was twenty, she told me that one day I would pay as much as 60 – 100 dollars for shoes. I distinctly remember saying, “That’s not going to happen.” She proved me wrong. I have paid $99.99 for a pair of shoes… I just had to have them.

My mother was a lover of the butterfly and her life was similar. She nested in Washington, DC, Philadelphia, PA and La Rochelle, France. God was her guide. He said, “Procreate and replenish the earth.” When ready, the incubator of her young butterflies broke through their cocoon and came forth. Each of her butterflies hatched and had their own shades and hues. They all had unquestionable intelligence; because my mother, like the butterfly, nurtured, guided, controlled, taught independence and she prepared her young butterflies for their personal flights. My mother was like a monarch butterfly incarnate. I wonder…what she will be when she returns.