Lilac Memories

Back when we were little, the lilacs coming into bloom meant that we'd pick them and bring them to our mother...there were nine kids, five of us girls, so I don't think that old lilac bush had much of a chance to get very large! (And I'm sure my mother ran out of vases!)

Lilacs, for those of you who don't have them in your area...come in many colors and are very fragrant. There are deep purple, medium purple, dark purple, white, and even pink. I'm sure there are many more varieties by now that I've not seen, but they bloom just once each year around this time of year. It's a glorious time for those of us in the northern states, starved for greenness and blooms.

My grown daughter, who's married now and lives in the deep south, doesn't have these. But oh, how she loved them when they'd bloom here. They were something she looked forward to and she would bring armloads in for the house and place them in vases in several rooms at a time.

Our bush, planted on the fencerow, was placed there as a marker for the grave of two twin boys, stillborn in this farmhouse many, many decades ago. We agreed with the only surviving family member to not disturb this huge bush. I remember one spring when we were trimming it back quite a bit, that she drove by, very slowly, straining to see what we were doing. I wasn't able to catch her, but I would have gladly run to the road so she would know that we had kept our promise to keep this bush in memory of her brothers. I'm only too happy to do it.

It's bittersweet, but wonderful to know that we can do a favor to a woman who's in her nineties who is a mother, grandmother, and great grandmother herself...making sure that her own mother's sons are respected and remembered.

(I am remembering my dad today, if he were still alive, he would be 79.)