Life Goes On

I was thinking today, as I watched part of the tributes given to Ted Kennedy, how life keeps going on even after people die. The tributes that I heard were humorous and touching. The camera panned over the Kennedy family and I could see traces of Bobby, Ted, and Jack in the faces that were present. Their lives go on in their likenesses and traits of those whom they have left behind.

It made me wonder what traits and characteristics I have taken from my father. Now, three years after his death I see myself saying and doing things that sometimes remind me of him. I'm not nearly as close to the way he was as my younger brother is. Their voices sound the same and they both have that John Wayne curl of the lip and swagger, ready for a good fight. And their humor is quite similar--except Brother is hysterical and Daddy was corny most of the time.

So now I'm thinking about what I will leave behind and more than that, who will be the ones who carry on anything at all from me. That would be my students and my neice and nephew. But I hope I can also pass along these lilies to whomever will have them when the time comes. You see, they are from my great-grandmother's garden in Chittenango, New York.

She gave these lilies to my grandmother, Nana, at some point when she and my grandfather had a home in Manlius, New York. They were up against the house and I remember looking at them, all lush and green in the shade. They were also in the back yard under the trees. When Nana died and the house was up for sale, Mother made sure that she dug up a few of Nana's lilies to keep her memory alive. They were at the side of the house for many years.

When I finally had a home of my own in Indiana, I needed hosta lilies to go up against the front of my house in the shade. So on a trip to New York, I dug up five of Nana's lilies that Mother had and brought them back to Indiana. They went into the ground and thrived. But only for one year, because I had to dig them up and carry them off to Washington where we lived for two years. They resided in the back of the house in the shade. Mother asked me if they had ever bloomed, but they hadn't. They just must not have had the right soil or light there.

When we moved down here to Southern California, I dug up Nana's lilies and put them in an old enamel wash tub to bring them here in the back of our car. When we pulled into the hotel for the night, I made sure they were watered and not too hot. As we got closer to California, I began to worry that we wouldn't be able to get them across the border because of the agricultural restrictions.

We came up to the agricultural checkpoint and it was closed! We sailed right on through. Nana's lilies came to live on our back porch in two big pots for two years. They were either too hot, too dry, or in too much sun, so they didn't do too much for us. It was a major feat just to keep them alive. One doesn't see these kinds of lilies out here in this arid climate very often, so it was likely that they could die without constant attention.

When we moved to our current house, I was thrilled that Nana's lilies would finally have a home. We have a shady spot in the front garden under the front window where I put them in amongst a philadendron, calla lilies and star gazer lilies. The sprinkler keeps them moist and they get just about an hour of sun a day--it is just right. What a shock to come home last week and see that not one lily, but all of my lilies have buds on them. The bloom you see above, is the first blossom of this plant since it was dug up from Mother's garden six years ago. I am so delighted to have something of my Nana and her mother, as well as from my parent's wonderful country home--all right here in my garden.
As I contemplate leaving influence, experiences, and what I am, behind for others to whom any of it will be useful, I look at Nana's lillies and know that beauty and dear memories can continue on even in the absence of those who were once here.