Treasure the Lilacs

Each spring which I lived during my college years with my grandmother, Nana, in St. Paul, the lilacs that surrounded the house would bloom.

On Saturday morning, she would open the back door and the windows and let the smell of the lilacs envelope the house. Each weekday, she would freshen the vase of lilacs on the dining table.

After looking at a picture of Gandpa in the back yard garden they had, and where he died, I realized that they both loved the lilacs and each spring, even almost forty years after he had died, those lilacs reminded her of the wonderful times they shared together.

Treasure the Lilacs.