Since moving to Maison Bean 10 years ago, I’ve become the keeper of a lot of things. Mimi’s growing collection of antiques that she has no room for. Belle’s non-seasonal clothes. Belle’s and Zoro’s high school memorabilia. Bikes and camping gear galore. There’s the Bean name with Bean 1 and Bean 2 and their little collections of cars, trains, stuffed animals and miscellaneous plastic. And there’s the phlox.
The phlox, the fragrant clusters of tiny deep pink flowers that come back year after year, were Mimi’s grandmother’s. The flowers migrated from the little white clapboard house where my great grandmother lived to the house Mimi grew up in. And then some migrated to Maison Bean several years ago when Mimi brought me four little fledgling plants. It’s a good thing, too, because the phlox that were at Mimi’s homestead were mistaken for weeds and are no longer. So now I am the keeper of the phlox.
On Friday the heavens opened and the rains came, drenching the parched soil. It was a relief after the hot, hazy dry days tinged with the smell of the wild fires that burned in southern Georgia and northern Florida. The morning after the rain, the phlox were bowed over from the force of the rain.
“Why are the flowers sad, Mommy?” Jax asked.
“They’re not sad, honey. They’re saying a prayer of thanks for the rain.”
Sometimes it’s a lot of work, shepherding all of this stuff that we have, but in these phlox and flocks of mine are memories and laughter and happiness and life and love. And I am honored to be the keeper of the phlox.
{ 8 comments }
That just melts my heart. And your writing… I just love the mental images.
It’s very cool that these flowers have been passed down.
Phlox are one of my favorite flowers. They grow wild in my area and are just beautiful! And of course, your little Beans are just the cutest!
That was really beautiful to read. The phlox is pretty- you should be honored to be its keeper.
This is my first opportunity to respond–my shoulder has been killing me. On the Grumpy Scale, I’m pegged out at a solid 10. Trust me, you look kind of silly doing exotic dancing at the ladies club with one arm pinned to your side.
Anyhow, I have an opinion [note from Jenny: Papa *always* has an opinion]. Jenny needs to think more about survival. Let me explain. All this talk about flowers? You can’t eat flowers or antiques and forget school pictures. Who needs that crap?
Papa is ready for any emergency. Our house blows away? No problem, Papa has enough tents for the whole neighborhood. Gas goes to $20 per gallon? No problems, we start a pedicab, bike rental business with the bikes I have in the garage. And we’re not going to starve to death because of those seeds I have left over from Y2K. Someone around here has to look at the big picture.
Papa
Ally and Jeanette: thank YOU! It was a post that I really wanted to spend more time on, but Wednesday just came around too fast.
Irene: I’m so envious. Wild phlox. I’ll bet they’re beautiful. That is soooo cool.
Papa: Very interesting about those y2k seeds. You’re about as likely to use them now as you were then. At least the flowers are pretty to look at!
How beautiful to have something you love so much passed down. I despise the fact we do not own a home for the sole purpose we can not garden. Any time I plant something in a hanging basket it becomes infested with either spiders (which I completly fear or aphids). What I love most about your writing is that I can feel every word. Have a wonderful July 4th!
I am loving that picture of him at the window… So adorable!
That’s so sweet, luckily you got the phlox to keep in your house.
I love what Jax said after the rain. It’s always funny to learn what little kids actually think about the things happening around them. Happy July 4th.
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