One lesson she taught me is the joy of caring for others. Grandma was a nurse in her younger days and provided her family with remedies for
our afflictions as long as I can remember. She cared for the elderly widows in the community, visiting them and bringing them food. She did everything for my Grandpa but spoon fed him. He was dependent on her to the point that he was unable to care for himself after she passed. And God knows she did more than her share of caring for me.
I also learned the joy of growing plants from her. Grandma LOVED flowers. She gave her wedding dress to me. It is beautiful but modest like she was. It is made of an elegant ivory satin with a calla lilly pattern woven in. In her wedding photos she carries a bouquet of white calla lilies that curled at the tip like her brown locks.
It's no surprise that she named her mini schnauzer "Daisy." She was frugal to the point that she bought powdered instead of fresh milk but you'd always see a bouquet of daisies on her counter.
And, yes, she loved to grow plants. She kept exotic plants. She had a cactus garden in pots in her office that no doubt reminded her of her favorite vacation place: Arizona. I was so intrigued by them when I was little that I felt compelled to touch them every time we visited. It always ended with me walking away frowning and holding my pricked finger up to my mom. Didn't learn that lesson very quickly. She also propagated every color and pattern of African violet. My mother has trouble keeping them alive, but Grandma grew them like weeds. Pink, purple, white, purple with white stripes. They were always blooming and later on I figured out that Miracle Grow is the trick.
Grandma was also quite fond of the amaryllis. I was fascinated by watching the progress of the
bud unfolding until it developed into blossoms so magnificent and huge that they would sometimes knock the pot over from their weight. I painted Grandma a series of 4 small watercolors that showed the blooming process and framed them in sequence. The paintings still hang in her house.
When Grandma passed away peacefully in her sleep on November 15, 2009, Grandpa wasn't the only one who missed her care. Grandpa soon moved to a very nice nursing home where he now lives quite contentedly with lots of visitors every day. Daisy went to an old lady in need of company who gladly took her in. But the house was left empty and the plants were abandoned without Grandma's touch. I brought many of them home. Her tropical ferns cascade onto the floor of my apartment. The African violets surprise me with richly colored blossoms every so often. And her amaryllis continues to inspire me.
Last July I visited Grandma's empty house and noticed a bud forming on the neglected, bone-dry amaryllis. I brought it home and watered it. A few weeks later, four crimson flowers burst open. The green leaves provided some color to my apartment for a few months and then I stuck it in my parent's basement when they began to brown.
Last weekend I was visiting home and stopped by Grandma's house again to absorb her comforting smell and remember her relaxing in the empty armchair. I looked at her dried up cactus garden, which had long since been forgotten. I didn't take the cacti for fear of being tempted by its enticing quills again. To my surprise, some vibrant red blossoms adorned the shriveled brown arms of her Christmas cactus. I picked one and brought it home to propagate.
I went down to the basement of my folk's house and noticed a bud forming again on the abandoned amaryllis bulb. I brought it home once again to watch the magical process. I feel Grandma's presence every time that bulb comes to life again. My love for Grandma is renewed every time I see it blooming. Her love love lives on within me.
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