Granny’s Garden

I’ve said before that my Granny’s garden was so lush that even weeds were beautiful.

She would laugh as she tore out pansies that had taken over her garden. They popped up in the cracks between her sidewalk, in her flower beds, and in her perfectly maintained garden.

Every spring when I plant my garden I think of her. The summers spent next to her picking peas and raspberries, getting up early to bake buns, and feeling so content in the quiet sunshine and safety of my grandparent’s garden are still some of the memories I go to when I need to take a mental break from the stress of life.

So imagine my surprise, and my smile as I went to look at how my garden was progressing, and noticed that behind the grass that I asked the kids to pull was a lone pansy.

I won’t pull it out. I don’t care if the whole fence line becomes overtaken by pansies.

Sometimes you just need a moment to stop, smile and remember that no matter how old you get, how much life seems to be taking you on the Autobahn instead of the scenic route, the people and the places that shaped you are always there.

Behind the grass, hidden for you to reminded, exactly when you need it.