My grandmother grew the most amazing African violets. They would be lined up row upon row in ceramic pots my grandfather had made. I admired her ability to coax buds from between their furry leaves, each one robust and vibrant. More than once she handed me a plant to take home which I would carry carefully, shielding it from the wind and proudly placing it near a window sill. Inevitably the flowers would start to shrivel and die almost as soon as I would look at them. I am not blessed with a green thumb. I have the thumb of annihilation, wreaking death and destruction on houseplants everywhere, but that has not stopped me from dreaming of having a home overflowing with greenery.

It’s funny where and how a person lives on. My grandparents have been dead for years but I still feel like they are with me. I find my grandmother in a houseplant. I see my grandfather’s pottery and I imagine his big catcher’s mitt hands that were able to create the most delicate lines from lumps of clay. I can’t remember his voice that well but I remember him pressing a tiny piece of pottery into my palm, a delicate pitcher for tea parties that I hosted for my stuffed animals. I remember my grandmother crying at family gatherings. She would bury her face in her apron, crying from happiness that those that she loved were together. At the time I found it strange and embarrassing. I couldn’t understand why a family gathering (a good one without fighting) could reduce her to tears. I too have a tendency to cry easily, much to the embarrassment and confusion of those around me. I am glad that that part of her, the corny sentimental side, lives on in me.

Every few years, in honour of my grandmother, I buy an African violet to see if it will sprout a flower. It never happens. Usually the poor thing shrivels and dies like all the unfortunate plants before it. Until now. Today I spotted a small flower unfurling from my lone brave violet that has refused to die. It feels like my grandmother is saying hello.

This entry was posted on Friday, April 15th, 2011 at 3:38 pm and is filed under Musings . You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. Both comments and pings are currently closed.