Had she not passed away in 1989, today would have been my Grandma H’s 99th birthday. She was a sweetheart of a lady, and even though all these years have slipped by – I still think of her often, and fondly.
The photo on the left is of Grandma and I in the summer of 1975.
She was on my mind anyway, but I couldn't help but think of her tonight as I was pulling some weeds (mostly dandelions) from our lawn.
Once when I was very little (maybe four) we went for a walk. She and I wandered through her yard picking dandelions. We put our "flowers" in a little plastic cup of water, and sat them on the kitchen counter. We then went on to do other things (probably to sing songs or play "Cootie" or maybe examine her pencil collection). Later, when we came back to the dandelions, they had closed up tight.
I was very upset. After all, they looked ruined and dead as far as I could tell. Grandma smiled reassuringly and told me the dandelions were only "sleeping" and would be lovely again the next morning. She was right (as Grandmas tend to be) and our little bouquet was thriving once again when we woke to greet a new day.
Sometimes when things happen that I didn't want, or didn't expect... when things look ruined beyond repair -I remember those dandelions. I remind myself that appearances can be deceiving. What might look like a total loss today, may be full of promise tomorrow. Sometimes we just have to be patient to see what the morning will bring.
I didn't pick all the dandelions from our yard tonight. I left a patch just big enough for a little boy I know to pick a lovely little bouquet of his own. We'll put them in a little plastic cup full of water and sit them on the kitchen counter. I'll show him how the flowers sleep, and how they wake up refreshed and beautiful.