Daffodils

When my sister and I were children, our parents would load us into the car every Sunday afternoon to visit our grandparents. We couldn't get to all of them every weekend, so we took turns. Our very favorite visits were to our maternal great-grandparents, who lived on a farm that was, in retrospect, kind of run down, but we didn't care at all; to us it was like Disneyland. There were horses, cows, chickens, goats, even peacocks!

Those poor peacocks. They got to where they would run when they saw us coming. We couldn't resist chasing the males and trying to get their feathers. : )

Granddaddy Jack used to take us out in the barn with him to collect eggs and feed the chickens, which we loved. It made us feel so grown up and helpful, although I'm sure we were in his way more than anything, but I don't think he minded. I remember him laughing a lot. He always wore a straw hat and overalls, and kept hard butterscotch candies in his pockets for us. He was something else. He had been a blacksmith and horse trainer back in the day, though by the time we came along he was pretty much retired. He ran for sheriff once, way before I was born. He didn't win, but even when I was a kid in the 70's, his campaign was legendary for being so entertaining. He would show up at events with his horse and perform majic tricks. The kids loved him.

Grandmama Ruby was the sweetest little woman. She had the longest hair I've ever seen. It was steel grey, and she wore it in two long braids that she wrapped around her head and secured into place. Even braided, her hair reached nearly to her waist. She used to have me read to her, and she would sit there smiling, rocking in her chair and knitting as I sat on the ottoman at her feet. She was so proud, there was never anything she picked out that I couldn't read. She used to tell me that my mom was the same way. She kept her pantry full of canned foods. Seriously, I've never seen so many canned goods outside of a grocery store. I wonder if it had anything to do with living through the Depression and being afraid of running out of food?

Our favorite time to visit was springtime. There was a field on the western side of the farm that wasn't used for anything anymore, and we could play freely there. Our parents had a rule about going barefoot; we weren't allowed until the evening temperatures had been above 65 degrees every night for a week. So we would watch the weather and keep track, and on the first day we were allowed, off came the shoes! We couldn't wait to run in that field. And every spring, it would explode seemingly overnight into what seemed like acres of gold. We would run around, picking daffodils until our arms were full. Then we would run back to the house where Grandmama Ruby would put them in water for us, and go back for more. It was our very favorite springtime ritual.

They both passed away by the time I was 12. Recently I rode by the old farm and was amazed at how small that field really was. It always seemed so huge to us, but it was probably only half an acre or so. No matter. For a few weeks a year, it was like a fairyland to us.

Every spring, I put daffodils on their graves. And they're still my favorite flower.