Last year about this time, we traveled to Auburn, California a few times. First we said a very hard good bye to Uncle John, and then we celebrated the marriage of his son, Andy to Mel. And during those hard days, some of the sweetest, most tender times were early in the morning. I would wake up, put a long sleeved shirt on, get a cup of coffee, and look for Dot somewhere in the expansive yard with a hose in her hand. She had already been up for hours.
There is a smell connected to that place, and I recently realized it was the smell of water coming out of a hose. That smell makes me think of Aunt Dot and Mamie’s yard. I can picture them in it.
When I left from one of those trips last year, I came back with a suitcase full of plants. We dug up some hastas from Dot’s yard. The are starting to poke through the soil at my house. And I came back with about 100 datura seeds, harvested from Dot’s plants. And those are now thriving in my yard.
I did not expect to be so incredibly excited to see these blooms. It might sound crazy, but it brings me hope that the darkness that loomed last August over those I love so much is waining, only to be replaced with something new, pure, and beautiful. May it be so.