Patiently Awaiting Flowers
My heart is heavy this time of year. Ā It's the time I think on levee breaches and bloated bodies, a beloved city failed by her sons and daughters and my mother's crepe myrtle tree.
Things can be destroyed, so I donāt really attach myself to them.Ā So when I lost my mother, I didn't look for her rings, or a piece of her handmade wedding dress. Ā I looked for her tree. Ā The one she begged her mother for, for so long. Ā As my gramsā health failed, her tree began to wither, so she finally acquiesced and gave Mama a branch. Ā Supposedly, that's all you need for a crepe myrtle to flower. Ā So Mama cleared a spot in the middle of the garden, placed the tiny little branch in the middle, and waited. Ā
It still hadn't flowered in the fall of 1988 when my grams passed away. Ā There were no flowers in 1989 or 1990 either. Ā It reminded me of the Charlie Brown Christmas tree:Ā skinny, bare, but endearing in its hopefulness.Ā My mother was unmoved. Ā "The branch has to take root. Ā A little sun, a little water.Ā Weāll have a tree when itās time.Ā Be patient and it will flower.ā
In 1991 we saw a bud. Ā Then two. Then suddenly, there was a tiny tree with an explosion of bold, pink blossoms. Ā It was nothing to me at 15. Ā It was everything to my mother. Ā She shrieked. Ā A little branch, a little sun, a little water, a lot of patience and unspoken hope changed her world. Ā The tree grew stronger and my mother didnāt.Ā One of her few pleasures in her last years of life was the beautiful garden she built around her motherās tree.Ā Nothing was allowed in that garden that didnāt complement it.Ā By the time my own mother died in 1994, it stood taller than my head.Ā
Once my mother was gone, I got it.Ā Through our mothersā gardens, we were given the opportunity to cultivate legacy. Ā It was like bringing a part of her back. Ā Iād drive past my house and daydream.Ā I envisioned purchasing my own home. Ā Iād ceremoniously break a branch, explaining the significance of this third generation tradition.Ā Then as time passed, Iād patiently wait for flowers.
In the past nine years, Iāve replaced things twice over.Ā But as for my motherās tree, Katrina left nothing but a round patch of dirt, reminding me that there was once life there, blossoming with pink promise.Ā Thatās what the levee took from me:Ā the only tangible manifestation of my motherās legacy Iāve ever wanted.Ā Sometimes the sadness of it turns me inside out. Ā I know what it means to miss New Orleans.Ā This is the story for so many scattered sons and daughters, who will forever feel the beat of the second line in their hearts.Ā Itās not always easy, but Iāve made it this far.Ā Whatās a little farther?
Plus, now I have my own yard.Ā Itās small, but thereās just enough room to plant my own legacy.Ā Experience tells me I donāt need much.Ā A little sun, a little water and a branch. Ā Then all I need to do is wait and cultivate a legacy.
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