A long story about some little flowers growing with me along the way

I grew up in a small quiet town in Mississippi.  My childhood home was cradled in the spacious lap of a lush green lawn and was surrounded by the caressing, waving, welcoming branches of oak, pecan, holly, apple, fig, and peach trees.  In each of their called-upon seasons, roses, daises, sunflowers, iris, honeysuckle, wisteria, daffodils, tulips, pansies made their annual appearance in the many beds and borders around the yard.  As a child, I was allowed to wander freely in the expansive reach of garden and grass.  I knew the joy of loving the sights, scents and touch of nature and having nature love me back.

When Gregg and I were 21 years old and beginning life as a married couple, we moved from the town of Mother's Yard to the town of our First Home.  Some of the comfort items we brought with us were flower bulbs and rootings from the plants I loved from my childhood play in Mother's Yard. One of these transplants in particular has shared quite a journey with us in our travels along the way.

The transplant:  My Violets.  

Pam's view:  Violets are sweet flowers with heart-shaped leaves (clearly made to be loved) and warm purple blooms that fill the flower bed by Mother's kitchen door. Violets are a favorite dwelling place of fairies.  Look in any credible storybook.

Gregg's view:  The violet is a weed.  Kill it now.

1984-Jonathan, age 2, with violets in front of First Home

Despite our differing views, the violets did make the trip with us 33 years ago from Mother's Yard to our First Home.  In short time, they filled the bed in front of First Home with all their fairy-land beauty.  Through the birth and toddler-hood of our first two children, the violets grew and flourished with love and joy of life.

When our children were 4 and 2, we moved from First Home to our present home.  Accordingly, we packed toys, clothes, furniture, stuff...and my violets.  Just as I had in the move from the town of Mother's Yard to First Home, I once more gently uprooted my enchanting floral friends from their cozy earthen beds and transported them (and the accompanying in-dwelling fairies) to their new abode Along Patio Edge of New Backyard.  

With unfailing trust and openness to all things possible, the violets quickly settled in and readied to greet life from their home of Along Patio Edge.  They were there to welcome the birth of our next two children; their leaves nestled Easter eggs in hiding for little and later bigger fingers to find; their simple, sweet flowers were picked by a variety of precious hands and lived short lives in small glass vases on our kitchen table.  They were trod upon by the feet of children, rabbits, kittens, and puppies at play...and lifted their heads afresh with each rising sun.  They soaked up pumpkin juice in October when jack-o-lanterns were carved by their side. They floated in excess water pools in summer when hoses and sprinklers and laughter reigned.  They leaned against the shoes of our children and their friends posing for pictures of first haircut, first pigtails, first lost tooth, first day of school, prom.

The years went by; Life was full...and so was the violet bed.  Then the time came that my father grew ill.  Plans were drawn for rooms to be built onto our house to provide living space for my mother and father so that we could give care to one another.  Those plans involved a new foundation and walls to be laid in the place where the violets bloomed and blessed.  Once again, with the gentle lifting of roots and tender care of leaves and buds, the violets were shifted out of the path of New Rooms on the House and were relocated to live Along Our Backyard Fence.  

Along the Backyard Fence

In their home Along Our Backyard Fence, they were a little farther removed from the daily touch of family life, but they resolutely dug their roots in deeply and lifted their faces faithfully to sing and dance of life and love and whimsy and delight.  For a period of years they lived unencumbered in their places Along Our Backyard Fence, sharing the space with iris, daisies, black-eyed susans, daffodils, and such.  

Time passed.  The children grew, my father died, seasons revolved, and flowers spread.  One calmly unexpected day, the words of Gregg from long-ago came forth from him again, "Your violets are a weed you, know.  They are choking the lives of our pretty plants that grow Along Our Backyard Fence.  I think we need to pull them out."

With a husbandly-understanding of my clinging violet-love, Gregg continued with an acceptable suggestion, "In Side Yard Underneath the Maple Tree, grass does not grow.  Perhaps your sturdy violets will."  So once again, I took up shovel and tender care and (at a pace made slower by the advancing of my age) spent several days moving my many-multiplied violet mounds from Along Our Backyard Fence to Side Yard Underneath the Maple Tree.  "Here," I thought, "they will make their home and I'll watch their life from House Side Window.  In years to come, children and rabbits and butterflies and fairies (I know) will frolic on my violet carpet underneath the shade of tree."

With the roots replanted and my view secure, I waited and watched as the seasons changed.  Fall.  Winter.  Then spring arrived...but my violets did not emerge.  Not a stalk, not a stem, not a leaf, not a bud, not a fairy wing or wand.

I waited and watched and waited some more.  Spring into summer, summer into fall, no violets beneath the shade of tree.  Did they tire of moving?  Was I harsh in their re-planting?  Too casual in my care?  Was the ground too hard, too dry, too shaded?  Was the fairy magic gone?

One grieves the loss of things we love but still our days move on.  And so we raked the leaves and picked up sticks and mowed what grass there was amidst the dirt in Side Yard Underneath the Maple Tree. From Mother's Yard to First Home to Along Patio Edge to Backyard Fence, the violets' half-century journey of life with me faded silently into finish in timing not my own.

And so it was that one day while I was working in the barren land of Side Yard Underneath the Maple Tree, the neighbor from next door appeared.  "Your yard looks great," he unwittingly said. "I've been meaning to let you know that when the lawn company comes to service my yard, I've been sending them over to spray where violets were sprouting beneath your tree.  Hopefully they are all killed off now so we won't have a problem with those weeds spreading across our yards."

What.  Oh.  Neighbor.  You know not what you have done. 

"Thank you for your thoughtfulness" (perhaps that is what I said), "but let me share a word or two with you."  

I said some words and so did he.  Flowers, weeds, life, love, differing points of view.  What more was there to do?

Fall.  Then winter.  And when the trailing spring broke once more through, Gregg the Wise said to me, "Let’s take a trip to Garden Store. Let's purchase stones to circle round Side Yard Underneath the Maple Tree.  Let's build a border to put violets in that will also keep them from growing out."

So we purchased and we built.  I searched our yard for violets that might have fled from last year's deadly spray.  I found a few survivors tucked bravely here and there, some still peeking from Along Our Backyard Fence.  I dug and planted once again, joyfully congregating my hide-and-seek survivors with new violets I received as gifts from friends.  All were placed with gentle care inside the haven wall that now encircled Side Yard Underneath the Maple Tree.  To our helpful neighbor, I willingly explained, "If any violets slip outside this wall and edge over near your yard, you may act as you feel led, but the ones within the circle are protected.  Violets grow in sanctuary here.”  

Flowers, weeds, life, love, differing points of view.  It’s a simple little story, whose telling stretched too long.  The message has no meaning beyond “this is a piece of life.”  But if you happen by my house, and drift over to Side Yard Underneath the Maple Tree, you’ll see a low stone border holding violets in sweet embrace, you’ll hear a whisper of our journey….and might glimpse a playful fairy face.