Recently, I told a friend about a memory I had of my grandmother and her (Sweet William) flowers. My friend remarked how sweet she thought that memory was, so I decided to share it in today’s post.
During my growing up years, my mom and I lived within about a half mile of my grandmother, so we visited her everyday. There was a short sidewalk leading to her side porch, and she planted rose bushes and flowers along that sidewalk.
(I have a picture of my grandmother, wearing a blue sweater, standing on that sidewalk, but to find it right now, I cannot.)
The Sweet Williams were one of my favorites, and I always asked if I could pick one. Grandma would say: “Wait until they start going to seed.”. I probably watched those flowers everyday, waiting to see the blackness of the seeds showing. At that time, Grandma would tell me to turn the bloom upside down and give it a little shake, so the seeds would fall to the ground. And then I could have that flower.
This spring, I bought and planted a few Sweet Williams.
The butterflies and I have enjoyed them all summer.
I really thought Sweet Williams only bloomed in the spring, but there are still a few flowers even this late in the summer. There haven’t been many times I’ve walked by them that I haven’t thought about Grandma.
Thankfully, Grandma didn’t make me wait until the blooms were this far gone, but as they’ve have died, I’ve turned each one upside down, so the seeds could fall to the ground.
Just like Grandma taught me.