Lilac Memory

The lilac bush in my backyard is covered in beautiful, fragrant blooms. The fragrance always reminds me of one of my favorite moments with my mom.

The year after my father died my mom flew from California to Maryland for a visit. Mom was blind and my sister-in-law had accompanied her across the country before going on to see her relatives. The spring was beautiful that year. One day I took her for a ride through the National Arboretum, (one of DC’s greatest treasures) to enjoy the beautiful sunny day. I especially love the azalea garden there with its multitude of huge, flowering shrubs in a rainbow of colors. I tried to describe their beauty to mom. She smiled and said she wished she could see them. As we drove on we came upon a field of lilacs in full bloom. We got out of the car and walked through that fragrant field and I noticed tears flowing down mom’s face. “Oh honey,” she said, “I can see the lilacs. The fragrance is the same as the lilacs where I grew up in Texas. They are a beautiful soft purple. The bushes are all covered. I love lilacs. Their smell lets me see them”

I love lilacs. Their fragrance lets me see my mom.