This morning on my way to take lads to school I noticed the flowers have opened. It’s a bit early for Spring isn’t it as was extremely cold over the last fortnight. I am amazed they’ve sprouted up but here it is…
My muddy water logged garden is showing life. These aren’t just any old flowers they were bulbs taken from my grand parents garden after my Gramps died. Every year they come out I remember him.
It’s years since he died, but he is still so much to me, my “Dad figure” as my real Dad didn’t want me.
I’m so glad I said to Nan that I wanted to take some of Gramps’s bulbs. He was a keen gardener you see, so to me taking home some Snowdrops and Crocuses seemed right.
My Nan had the garden ripped out and covered in gravel. She couldn’t bare to look outside each day and see his hobby still growing, still flowering after he was dead. She wanted and needed it gone, I was the opposite. I needed that garden to live on and it does. That little flower, that’s special.