Golden Smoke Bush (Cotinus coggygria ‘Golden Spirit’)
Golden Smoke Bush is one of the loveliest shrubs in any yard. With amazing groups of flowers that resemble smoke, giving this plant its name, it is guaranteed to be one of the most interesting plants in any garden. It is typically a large shrub and usually grows 15 to 20 feet tall with a similar spread. It is native to Southern Europe and Asia and has few pests. It fares best in USDA hardiness zones 4 to 8.
Carmen Maritza Barrios Moreno
August 6, 1945 – December 19, 2010
If you ever met Carmen, you would remember her immediately.
Maybe because she never tried to be anyone other than herself.
She had this strong spirit about her, the kind that filled a room before she even spoke. And when she did speak, she said exactly what she thought. No sugar coating. No pretending. Her humor could go straight to the bone sometimes — honest, sharp, sometimes harsh — but somehow people still laughed because it was real. Carmen did not know how to be fake. She laughed with her eyes, fully, deeply, like her whole soul joined in.
And when she was happy, everyone around her felt lighter.
But when she was hurt or upset, the whole atmosphere in the house changed too. Carmen carried emotions strongly. She loved strongly, worried strongly, protected strongly. Everything about her heart was big.
Especially when it came to her children.
Her boys were not always perfectly behaved growing up — she had to parent them hard sometimes. And anyone who knew Carmen remembers that little tap on the forehead she would do, somewhere between affection and “get yourself together.” That was her love. Tough, protective, direct, but always full of care underneath.
And it paid off.
Her sons became honorable men. Deeply religious, deeply kind, always helping people around them, always showing up for others. The kind of men who protect, support, and carry goodness quietly. Men who loved their mother openly and without shame. Even when life took them far away to different countries, they never drifted from her. The calls never stopped. The closeness never disappeared. Because Carmen was home to them no matter where they lived.
And then there was the daughter she chose.
At a time when Carmen herself was already struggling, already carrying more pain and responsibility than most people could handle, life placed a young girl in front of her who suddenly had no one. Most people would have said, “I cannot do more.” Carmen somehow said yes. She found a way to become a mother again even in hardship. Not because it was easy, but because leaving someone alone was something her heart simply could not do.
That kind of love cannot be taught. It either lives in a person or it does not.
Carmen loved her plants almost like living companions. Maybe because nurturing things came naturally to her. She could sit for hours on her garden , talking to God as if He were sitting right there beside her listening. And maybe He was. Their relationship felt personal like that. Close. Honest. Direct. She did not speak to God formally. She spoke to Him the way she spoke to everyone she loved — openly, emotionally, truthfully.
Life made her strong, but her children made her soft.
Nothing could change her mood faster than a hug from her kids.
And if you want to know who Carmen truly was, do not only look at her life. Look at the people she raised. Look at the goodness in her sons. Look at the daughter she chose when she herself already had every reason to say no. Look at how deeply her children cherish her still.
That is her legacy.
Not perfection.
Love.
This smoke tree is dedicated in loving memory of Carmen — a woman who loved unconditionally, protected fiercely, believed deeply, and whose roots will continue to live through every soul she cared for.
