Flash: The Memory of Flowers

Every plant I have – indoor and out – evokes someone in my life, a moment in time.

The daffodils presently swaying outside my front door were planted by my father and I a few days after Mum died of cancer.

They were her favorite.

The peace lilies I’ve managed to keep alive inside for four years were memorial plants at the funeral of Wes’ beloved father.

I think of him every time I water them.

The African Violet that sits in my windowsill was Mum and Dad’s and – no joke – it probably at least 20 years old, it’s roots deep and enormous.

It reminds me of their pots and pots of African violets that always sat in the picture window of the kitchen.

The bonsai tree we’re growing – ever so slowly – reminds me of Wes.

They are his favorite.

And I have remnants around my garden, gifted by friends when I first moved in and had no landscaping. Hostas from Hilary, lamb’s ear from June, a Serviceberry bush from Dad, lilies from Lynn, and two beautiful rock beds that were made with the might and sweat of my best friends (Johnna, Scott and Nick) with an assistant from the almighty Barb, she of the tiller and a will of iron.

I love them all and the smiles of memory they bring to me every day.

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