In just a few weeks I was moving out of state. So I invited my mother and sisters to take whatever plants they wanted for their own gardens. As they dug into my garden with their trowels, I felt like my life was being uprooted too.
“Irises!” one of my sisters said. “This batch must’ve come from clippings from Grandma Margaret.”
“Grandma Margaret was a shy lady,” Mom said. “But you could always get her to talk about flowers.”
“I need to take some of this hollyhock,” my other sister said. “Remember making dolls out of hollyhock when we were kids?”
The memories blossomed. The delphinium clipping came from Great-aunt Eva, the peonies from Mom, the lilies from my Great-aunt Ruth. As long as the flowers grew, they were with me, wherever I went.
Once I settled into my new home, Mom sent me seeds and clippings. New memories were waiting to sprout, but my roots would stay strong under my family’s care.
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