African Violets and my Grandmother

Before I get started on this entry, I want to say how much fun it has been to get to know some of you Company Girls in recent weeks. I think "blogging gals" are just some of the best in the country. Do I hear an "amen" to that? I'm inspired by many of you young Moms that are doing your very best to be Godly Moms as you balance your extremely busy lives. I have a 30 year old daughter and daughter in law that are right where many of you are, so I applaud you and want you to know that your efforts will not go unnoticed.

Okay, you may be thinking that today's blog entry is most interesting. I try hard to always think of a "catchy" title to each entry, one that will make you want to read my blog. ~smile~


My paternal Grandmother (pictured above in 1992) was a character to say the least. She was the most fun Grandmother and when her Grandchildren were around, nothing else mattered. Well, really, nothing else mattered whether or not we were around, but that's another story. She could do string art, play the harmonica, loved to play dominos and believed in a lot of old "wives tales." Needless to say, all of that was most entertaining to me as a child. For the first 10 years of my life, we lived near my paternal Grandparents and I always looked forward to staying the night at their house. In those days, there were nothing but double or twin beds and my Grandmother slept in a double bed and my Grandpa slept in a twin bed. They were in the same room, but nonetheless, they had separate beds. ~wink~ My Grandmother was a rather large woman and I absolutely loved to snuggle up to her as I fell asleep. I can still remember the secure feeling that it gave me.

In October of 1988 my Grandparents (pictured above around 1988) reached a point where they could no longer live alone. My Dad's sister had passed away at a young age and that left him an only child. My Grandparents lived in Ft. Smith, Arkansas and my parents lived in Lynchburg, Virginia. Not a real workable arrangement for caring for my Grandparents. After prayer and discussions the decision was made to move them to Louisiana to a nursing home near me. They did not want to leave Ft. Smith (and rightfully so) but they did agree that they would come here since it wasn't near as far from Ft. Smith as Virginia. I had some connections with the Director of Nursing at one of our local nursing homes and she made arrangements for them to come and reside there. I shall never forget the day that we moved them in and the sadness that overcame my Dad, Mom, brother and myself as we left them that first night.

The years that followed were years filled adjustments, many ER visits, laughter, sadness and lots and lots of memories. I believe the national average for folks living in a nursing home is 18 months. Well, my Grandparents broke that average by a long shot. My Grandpa lived until 1992 and passed away at the age of 88. We just knew that my Grandmother could not last that much longer. After all she and Grandpa had been married 68 years and we felt like she would ultimately grief herself too death. Wrong!! She lived on for 7 more years and died in July of 1999. We were blessed that both of them ultimately just "wore out." They did not have any long and extended illness and , except for some short term memory loss, they were able to keep their minds in tact. Life was very different for me when they both were gone. I had watched over their care for 11 years and it was a real adjustment when they were gone.


I always remember my Grandmother growing African Violets in her kitchen window. I especially remember the bright purple blooms on many of them and she grew them in coffee cans. Yes, that's right, old rusty coffee cans with holes punched in the bottom of them for drainage. The kitchen window was almost always raised and they were exposed to the rain, the wind, the cold, the heat, and they always thrived. A fact that is amazing to me now.

At some point I shared this fact with a dear friend and when my Grandmother passed away she remembered the "African Violet story" that I had told her. So, shortly after my Grandmother's death the local florist comes to my front door with a beautiful basket filled with two African Violets. I did think they were beautiful and I knew immediately why she sent them. But, I had no idea what I was going to do with them or how I would ever keep them alive.


One day as I was passing by them, it occurred to me that I should research the growing and care of African Violets and grow them in memory of my Grandmother. So, that's exactly what I did and I have had so much fun with them. I still have the original two that my friend sent, plus about 5 others. I spend much more time "babying and caring" for them than my Grandmother ever did, but it's enjoyable. I just could not bring myself to put them in a coffee can and leave them to just "do their thing." ~giggle~ I've researched and read and "play by the rules" for growing African Violets. I even gave a program a few years back to our local Garden Club on "The Growing of African Violets." I knew my Grandmother was smiling down from heaven and likely saying, "she's making a whole lot more work out of this than is necessary." ~chuckle~

Who knows, maybe I'll still be growing violets when the Lord calls me home and perhaps my daughter will want to continue growing them in my honor. ~smile~ And, maybe I've caused you to want to "try your hand" with African Violets.