Hydrangeas and Memories of Mothers and Their Days
When I was a child, I believed Hydrangeas smelled like mint. My mother grew mint, it was the only herb she ever grew that I know of - and I don't know why she did that...she never used it.
My grandmother had the most beautiful hydrangeas. This was back when they only had one kind, and what color they were depended on the soil ph. My grandmother's were blue. And she would cutt them and put them in a vase and I would stick my nose in them and inhale the scent of mint.
I believed that they smelled like mint because my Mamaw thought they were too pretty not to smell good too. I had no idea that the scent was contrived by her putting a few sprigs of mint in the water. I just thought hydrangeas smelled that way automatically. I was eleven or twelve before I realized I'd been had. It was a harmless deception. Anyone who knew hydrangeas and herbs would know better. I didn't, not then. But mint reminds me of my mother and hydrangeas remind me of my Mamaw....my paternal grandmother....it's odd that the smell and sight of these things can conjure memories of breezy spring and summer afternoons when I thought the world was perfect. I've been revisiting that memory a lot since I now have hydrangeas. If I just had a camellia bush, all my mothers would be here with me. Camellias were my mother's mother's favorite. I grew up hearing them called 'japonica' which is the botanical name. I had a camellia at the old house, but no hydrangeas, try as I might. I left the camellia behind and there were hydrangeas waiting at the new place. I babied them and pruned them and fed them all winter and this is the reward. These beautiful flowers I can fill my home with and take to work and give to others. They make me feel good. They make me happy.
Mother's Day has been painful for me for the last couple decades. Two years ago it was awful. Fifteen years ago again, it was awful. Here and there, it's been nice. This year it's nice. I have my memories, I got a card from my daughter. And my husband is making dinner and cleaning house. It's quite awesome, in fact.
I wonder, once I am gone, what will remind my daughter of me.