Slow Goodbyes

Anyone who has read my blog for any length of time, or who knows me personally, knows that my grandmother is a very important person in my life and that she left this world a few years ago. In fact, it will be five years this Thursday, on the 17th.

I wasn't thinking of that date when I took these photos. They have to do with a New Year's resolve to get my office in better order.

The flowers came from Grandmother's yard. I think some I picked the spring after her death, and some the following spring. I wanted to remember the things she had planted in her yard.

Well, they have lived, so to speak, on my prayer desk all this time. I had them laid out on a piece of white paper, and even though they dried out and got dusty, I never felt the desire to get rid of them. I like the direct connection they provided to a woman who was out in her yard daily, who knew the name of every plant in it, who knew how to take care of each one and did just that.

But last week I decided it was time to say good-bye. My little desk (which she gave me) just had too many things. It did not feel peaceful; it felt cluttered and was nearly impossible to dust. So I said good-bye. And of course I did it my way, taking pictures and reminiscing and being thankful. And I think there were a few tears, too.

And by the time I finished, I realized I still didn't want to throw them away. So I put them in a box and in the drawer with other things related to her.

I think eventually I will take them to Croatia and put them in the soil there, when I have my own garden and can plant some of these things there. (We don't have enough sunlight here for most of them.)

So, here is a (very small) sample of Grandmother's garden . . . .

Daffodils that grew between her yard and the next-door neighbors' . . .

Tiny white roses from the south side of the house . . . .

Closer to the daffodils . . . .

A peony that was once pink, also from the south side of the house . . . .

Tiny sweetheart roses, from the cutting garden out the back door . . . . The top photo is their petals, some still pink after all this time . . . .

And lavender, from the border along the cedar fence, near the garage . . . .

I wish everyone had flowers from the gardens of their loved ones. I wish everyone had people in their lives who loved them so much and gave them so much to remember, to respect, to reach for.

I wish I could give that to the people I know who can't let go of the people they've lost because there is so much unresolved pain and hurt in the relationship. We call it "complicated grief," and it is very hard for people to work through.

I'm thankful for my fairly simple grief and for the flowers that have helped me through it over the years.

And, I must be honest, I am thankful that they are off my desk and no longer gathering dust! Grandmother wouldn't have liked that one bit!