A garden of memories

With this spring and summer, I'll find little reminders of my Grandfather, who passed away last summer. He was a prolific gardener his entire life and had a flower garden that barely had room to walk in.

We were able to dig up many of his plants, plants he'd nursed and grown from seed over many years, and bring them to our garden.  

I think he'd like that. I think he'd enjoy seeing his bright yellow tulips around our big maple tree and around the arbor. I think he'd love that lilies he gave me 15 years ago have survived and moved with me to 4 different houses and are now combined with more from his garden. I think he'd love that the little, fragrant grape hyacinths that he said spread like weeds are now front and center in the middle of one of our largest flower beds. It seemed fitting that we bring them home, that we enjoy them, that our kids play among them. I think he'd like that most of all.

The other reminders I'll have this year are 3 crumbling morel mushroom statues that were in my Gramma's garden as far back as I can remember.  They are falling apart and I'll eventually have to pack them away, but for now, I'll let them crumble. I think of her every time I look at them. I miss her terribly. 

When I was a kid, she'd take me on rides in the country and we'd take a little picnic of sandwiches and soda, maybe some chips too, but nothing ever fancy. On these rides She'd say the whole time that she just wasn't sure where she was, but she grew up in the country and knew every road for miles around.  It was the sense of adventure she gave me that I loved. 

We'd always count the red-wing blackbirds we would see.  You only ever really see them in the country, out in the fields or wild wooded areas. The day after she died, I saw one in my front yard, in the middle of town and knew it was her. We have them in our garden everyday now. They have the most lovely little trill and sing back and forth constantly. One more reason I love the house we live in and the garden that goes with it.  The memories we make here aren't the only ones that live with us.