I picked the heads off of nearly all
or maybe all of Grandma’s tulips
and like a cat who was a skilled mouser,
brought them to her
expecting to be stroked with affection.
Grandma loved her tulips and her flower bed
covered most of the backyard.
The very little girl that I was
only knew her love
and didn’t know there were rules
about picking tulips.
She loved me more than
her tulips –
or at least as much.
My family lived with her
in the house my mom
grew up in
and so it was Grandma’s home
first and foremost.
I slept in a room with her
til she died
when I was five.
What I learned from the tulips
is that I could pick violets – all
that I wanted.
My mom received my
tiny bouquet
like I spent a fortune on it.
She’d fuss over the vase
to put it in
and it was the
centerpiece of our kitchen table.
So the other day
I noticed how many
purple flowers there are
in bloom
in my yard right now.
And a bumblebee crawled right
into the lips
of a great blue lobelia –
That actually is purple –
crawled in
like a lover
who knew just
how to enter a beloved.
The native cranesbill
petals are like fairy wings
soft, open
a perfect landing
for pollen seeking bumbles
even now.
And how many colors
are there,
of purple,
just in asters?
It renews my faith
in God
that so many were chosen
to herald in
this season of change.
Now I know
to slow down
and see life ending
with so many purples as
witness.
And like Grandma who died too soon
without a goodbye
Mom did too
when I was 13.
The same year
she asked me what I wanted
for my birthday.
I kind of think she knew
she wasn’t well
but didn’t let on
and I said
I wanna paint my room
lavender.
It was 1970
and that was cool
so she said yes
and it was a big deal
because she hadn’t
asked me before
what I wanted.
Mostly Dad painted.
Mom bought me
a new bedspread,
lavender
with flowers.
She got me
and I am finally
getting how
she’s painted on the walls
of my heart,
lavender.
And purple blooms
in a tiny vase
I fuss over
Are all for her.
-Charlotte Nuessle