Lately I’ve been helping my mom go through some of her mother’s things. I’ve learned that Gramma liked to take pictures of flower arrangements.
Sometimes the flowers have some context. This one is labeled “Cleo’s Birthday 1981 from Joy” (Gramma’s name was Cleo), and I recognize Gramma’s dining room furniture.
Others are in places I can’t identify.
Sometimes I’m not entirely sure which way is up.
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The flower arrangement pictures go back quite a ways.
I wonder about the occasion for this one. A funeral?
Or what about this one? The pink flowers and blue tulle make me wonder if it might have been a baby shower.
I was gearing up to get philosophical about this. Oh how impractical it is to try to preserve what can’t be preserved. Oh how risky it is to try to interpret the things people leave behind them. Then I saw that Gramma took pictures of her Christmas cactus.
I take pictures of my Christmas cactus. (Actually it tends to bloom closer to Election Day.)
Genetically speaking, it’s the same Christmas cactus; mine is a cutting from hers.
So instead of trying to draw any hifalutin’ conclusions about people who take pictures of flowers, I’m just going to end with some pictures of flowers that Gramma grew. She was a wizard with roses. Enjoy.
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