In My Grandmother's Garden

In My Grandmother's Garden
Whenever I smell a lilac bush, I think of my grandmother. The sweet smell and cone-shaped groupings of small delicate flowers bring back images from my childhood.

My grandmother lived in an older, poorer section of the south side of Milwaukee. The houses were referred to as Polish flats, referring somewhat to the nationality of the people who populated the area and the style of houses that had been built. The houses were small and were close together with a backyard functioning mostly as a way to get to the garage. But my grandmother’s house didn’t have a garage. The very back of the yard was covered with gravel and a large old wooden fence, with a double-gated inward swinging gate framing the property. The remainder of the yard was her garden.

As you entered from the front of the house, an old wooden fence with a latch gate invited you in. The side of the house was lined with a narrow row of bright red tulips that led you to the backyard where a large flowing lilac bush greeted you, one of two that filled the air with a sweet smell on a summer day.

I would often find her seated in a metal chair just watching over her flowers and always smiling. Shades of red, pink, white, and yellow flowers created an orchestra of interwoven color. She would always rise to greet me and snip off some of the lilac bush for me to take home.

Short in stature with her reddish brown hair with not one strand of gray, wearing a floral apron over her clothing, she tended to her flowers. In her 60’s and stricken with varicose veins and foot problems, her legs and ankles were often swollen. She walked slowly, bending down to pull a weed or snip a flower.

As we walked amongst the flowers, I would dart back and forth avoiding bees. They were part of the garden as was she and there was a harmony that existed with the bees, butterflies, birds and sometimes rabbits that came to steal the vegetables intermingled with her flowers.

Later in her life, she suffered a stroke and was confined to her living room which now also served as her bedroom and bathroom. As she slowly deteriorated, she lost the ability to speak and walk.

I remember my mother carrying on one-sided conversations as grandma sat in her rocker and watched her television. There were no longer flowers in her garden but her lilac bushes still thrived and there on top of her television was a small vase filled with lilacs.

My grandmother lived into her early 80’s and died over 20 years ago. She passed on to me the appreciation for nature. She gave to me the desire to touch the silk petal of a rose, to feel the blades of grass between my toes and the joy of watching wildlife.

I received a treasured gift in my grandmother’s garden.

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