Memory.

I walked outside to weed out the flower bed, as I do every Spring. This time as I pulled away the dead weeds and found new, growing Easter Lilies I remembered the first time they were planted.
5 years ago. With my Grandpa.

5 years and running, they have been a simple reminder of the man I admired so greatly. When I stepped back and took a look a solitary tear ran down my cheek. I told Mom to come out and look and I asked her if she remembered when those were planted. I tell her I planted them with Grandpa. She smiles and says, "There he is."

My Grandpa was a wonderful gardener. As long as I can remember he gave me tours of his backyard and told me of all the different flowers planted. It was beautiful. This is the greatest way that I can remember him.
As an Easter Lily.