A Garden of Memories.

I mentioned in my last post that we went to visit David's Aunt Becky, and she lives right up the driveway from David's MeMaw's house. So, while we were there we went over to her house to grab some eggs that her chickens had laid, and Becky gave me a few bell peppers too, but I had to walk around a little before we left. 

See, MeMaw was the perfect gardener. She had a thumb greener than the springtime grass - and these flowers spoke for her. They were the most vibrant, crisp, healthy flowers I have ever seen. Of course they have been getting a ton of rain, and even though these are filtered a little - they were nothing short of amazing.

Seeing their beauty made me feel like MeMaw was still there, even walking around with me telling me about each of them, just as she had done last year. She was never one to boast about anything, but she was proud of her flowers - and rightfully so. 

I could have photographed them for hours, each of them held such precious beauty and memories inside of each petal of vibrant color. I wish that she could have physically been there to walk around with me, leading me slowly around her yard, explaining the story behind the slang names she had for each one when I asked what they were REALLY called. 

Like these. 

Some call them "Mother of Pearl" plant, and that's what my mother recognized them as, but MeMaw called them "Ghost Plants".

I kind of took to Ghost Plants because when she showed them to me for the first time, it had just rained and there were still drops of water curled up on the leaves of the plant. Something about it was beautiful and almost a little unreal to me. 

They have since become my favorite plant. Maybe it's because we shared a connection over it - as weird as that may sound. Maybe it's because a few weeks later, she had made up two pots (one was the most gorgeous teapot that she had outside that I had once told her I loved) for me full of this little plant. She had stuck it down into each crack and crevice of the pots, and now it grows wildly on our porch outside. Each time I see it, I think of her and the day I saw it for the first time. She stood beside me and watched me fall in love with it. I know that's wild to say, but that's the only way I can explain it. She must have known.

All in all, going to her house to see the flowers is something I would like to do more often. It reminds me of the beauty that can be found everyday, despite the rain or hot scorching weather that we don't always love. Things like these beautiful flowers need the rain and sunshine in order to grow. We, as humans, tend to selfishly forget that all good and perfect things come from Above, and this, my friends, is only one example of those perfect things.  

"For all people are like grass, and all their glory is like the flowers of the field; the grass withers and the flowers fall, but the word of The Lord endures forever." 

- 1 Peter 1:24-25