My Daddy's Lilac

Not quite a month before my daddy died, he showed up at my front door, with a tiny twig in his hand and barely enough roots attached to suggest anything would ever come of this frail plant.


Well, I knew instantly where this little slip of a shrub had come from. My dad and I had each been members of the National Audubon Society for several years, so upon each renewal of membership, one usually receives 10 free trees with your membership renewal. I remember how excited I was to anticipate the arrival of my very first 10 new trees, 5 of which were flowering. Much to my surprise, all ten trees arrived with their roots wrapped in a small amount of damp paper and all 10 trees fit into a plastic bag approximently 5 inches wide and 2 feet long. Yep, that tells you how big the trees were. None of them were even close to 1/2 the diameter of a pencil and barely 9 to 12 inches high. Nonetheless, I would deligently plant all ten in a safe place in my herb garden soil to pamper them through their first year of growth.

"Here Dawne, I thought you may want to get this lilac in the ground before it dies too," he said.

"What do you mean before it dies too?" I asked.

" Well, I've held onto them too long since they arrived in the mail and they've all died but this one, and I just don't think I will be able to get this one in the ground," he replied rather softly and with his eyes saddened.

"Daddy, I can come plant it for you," I responded, hoping to lift the solemn atmosphere a little.

"No, you keep it, I don't think I'll ever get to see it even leaf out, but I couldn't stand to see all 10 of them die. I think this one is purple, your favorite color, but I'm not sure, I just knew you'd see to it it got in the ground." he added.

"Daddy." My voice trailed.

Much happened and precious words were shared during the next 2 weeks he came to stay with me, none of which I will share at this time. But, I planted Daddy's lilac in an old black gallon plastic pot, and sat it in the shade on the east side of the house, where it got watered faithfully. We had bought a new place in town but hadn't moved yet, and I didn't want to plant daddy's lilac anywhere I wasn't going to be living.

My husband built me a beautiful rock-walled garden at the new property in town and there is where I transplanted daddy's lilac, when it was merely just a 10" twig, along with the 135 other perennials and 22 shurb cuttings I brought from our place in the country. Two years later the heavenly scented lilac bloomed for the very first time. Now, five and a half years after I potted it, it stands towering over me and nearly 4 feet wide.

Daddy used to stop by my house in the country, on occassion, on his way back from the Pastor's Prayer meetings he attended every Thursday. Sometimes he would only stop to say hi and give me a hug, other times we would walk through my gardens, me always barefooted, him in one of his many hats, and we'd discuss the future of our nation, the collapsing economy, the "end times" or sustainable living. Topics that we never seemed to tire of, yet, seemed to be a lot less interesting to others. I'd stop to pick a few blossoms of whatever was blooming at the time, or pick a leaf of chocolate mint to stick up in his nose to make him take a whiff, or snatch a leaf from my numerous lamb's ear plants, to have him feel the incredible softness of the fuzzy leaves, just like the true touch of a little lamb's ear. He tolerated my giddy excitement of all things concerning my gardens, with his twinkle-eyed soft smile, his slow gate of a walk, the brush of his hand over a nearby shrub, or just his silent stance as his took in the peacefulness of the pastoral scene. He too, loved nature of all kind: animals, flower and herb gardens, rocks and hills, rivers and streams, trees and yes, shrubs.

Was he trying to tell me something that day he handed me that thin, fraile twig of a lilac? The lilac he didn't want to see die too? Did he really mean "too" as in the other 9 little trees that had already died, or "too" as in himself?

Either way, it doesn't really matter now. What does matter is my Daddy's lilac is alive and flourishing, filling me with beautiful sights and heavenly scents each and every spring and memories of one of the greatest men in my life to last a lifetime. (Daddy's Lilac just happens to be the background for my blogspot)