How do you describe something so beautiful? Sometimes I can’t find the words to describe the beauty of your spirit. There was no one like you; you were cut from a different cloth. A cloth I just so happen to have the honor of being interwoven into. Grandma, you are my springtime flower.
Throughout the community, you were known as the lady with the green thumb. Our family reminds me of your garden, superb with beauty yet, at times overtaken by weeds.
We had our issues, but you were the glue that kept our family together, like sugar during photosynthesis. Just as soil nourishes and grows a seed, you nurtured everyone who crossed your path, never turning anyone away.
Your smile shined as bright as an illuminating summer sun that brought life to everything on the ground. You cultivated and created things from the palms of your hands, just like freshly bloomed flower buds in the springtime. You loved us like the bees loved pollen in the middle of April. Your perfume smelled like a sweet rose aroma laced with vanilla.
I will miss helping you cultivate life in your garden, grandma. I will always hold onto the memories of drinking crisp cool lemonade during the summer while reaping our harvest. I’ll never forget celebrating the award you won for having the most beautiful yard in the City of Birmingham.
That green thumb has been passed down from generation to generation. Life is what you preach to us. You showed us how life comes and goes, just like plants and vegetation. You told me that one moment you are a seed being freshly planted into the soil, fighting your way up through the dirt only to face intense weather conditions and herbivore attacks. But you said to keep fighting till you blossom into what God created you to be.
You taught me that flowers come in many colors and sizes, but they all start as seeds that need sunlight, soil, and water to grow. You showed me that love is the key ingredient in gardening. Love produces patience, and patience unravels growth. Growth is necessary for change, and change leads to a brighter future.
I can’t lie, grandma, the pain of not having you near me hurts. My heart longs to hear the sweet sound of your voice. It is like a farmer finding out his harvest season won’t happen due to unexpected flooding or soil contamination. Your absence is felt, but your love remains. I will continue to uphold your legacy, grandma. That green thumb will continue to evolve and be carried throughout our family.
Grandma, you use to always preach about being strong in the Lord. Those words are true. Since you have been gone, I’ve had to use your teachings and be strong in the Lord. I feel like a seed enduring transformation, and it’s uncomfortable but necessary. That green thumb will always be alive and active in my life. Anything I touch, I want to bring life to it.
Your spirit lives on grandma, you have officially bloomed into the ultimate flower, and I know you are as beautiful as freshly blossomed Magnolia in May. I love you. You will always be my lady with the green thumb cultivating and bringing life to everything she touched.
