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Claire and I met at McDonald’s when our now twenty-something daughters were three years old. Claire was new to Louisiana, and I was newly replanted in the state after several years, knowing no one in the town where we chose to live.
I don’t collect friends very quickly. It’s just not my way. But it is Claire’s way – she is like a garden of camellias, with bees of every kind always buzzing around her. Her personality is magnetic, and has a wonderfully calming effect on my frazzled psyche.
She is a godsend.
Her garden is not just a metaphor; she has a green thumb and uses it to decorate the world with plants. One of those plants is the annual flora zinnias. I remember walking into Claire’s secret garden (hidden behind her house where you would never know what fecundity lurked behind the austere brick of her home’s facade) seeing splashes of color everywhere.
“Oh, wow! Those zinnias [I pronounced it ZEEN-ya, the way New Orleanians do] are so beautiful. It must take a lot of work to cultivate them.” I was envious. But I need not have been. Claire shares everything from knowledge to zinnia seeds to love – and so effortlessly.
“Zinnias? [Claire pronounced it the way the rest of the world does – something I did not know at the time – ZINN-ee-uh.] Nah. Just throw some seeds in the garden and they’ll grow. I’ve got plenty; let me give you some.”
“No, no! I didn’t mean that I wanted to steal your seeds!”
“It’s ok. I want you to have them.”
That’s the way Claire is – generous is an understatement.
Time separated us. Space did, too. But somehow, Claire is still here in my life, thanks to the benevolent forces at work in the universe (one of which is Claire herself).
This spring as I was furiously removing wallpaper and repainting our “new” house, Jillian asked, “Mom, are you going to plant zinnias this year?” (She pronounced it Claire’s way.)
I was taken by surprise. Oh, the memories zinnias hold for this humble and confused woman! “Yes, actually. I found a bunch on sale for ten cents a pack and planted them all last week. Why?”
“I miss seeing them. I remember your garden and Miss Claire’s covered in zinnias. I want to plant some this year, too.”
Oh, how much zinnias mean to me – friendship – true friendship – that is, kinship without the “kin” part; my child’s childhood enveloped in color, surrounded by love, and a future of possibility.
That is what zinnias mean to me.
That is what Claire means to me.
Oh, I have two zinnia plants in my garden and they just live on and on, and flower and flower, they are beautiful! I love hearing how flowers hold memories for you, they do for me too, just as songs do. 🙂
Oh yes – lots of memories attached to music as well. ❤
Dear Stacy,
Such a lovely tribute to an amazing and lovely woman. You captured the true essence of my sister…….selflessly sharing the beauty and wonder of life. She goes with the flow and allows it to carry her where she can share her magic and love. It seems as if she has not only touched your heart but there is a piece that she holds on to. And that is her way….
May your garden be blessed by friendship, love, abundance and the lovey Zinnias.
Kathy
Thank you, Kathy – we are lucky to have her in our lives. ❤
not quite sure how to respond to this beautiful tribute… but I thank you, most sincerely, my dear sister from another mother… and one day, I hope to have some seeds from YOUR garden! Blessings… Peace, and Joy to you always.
Namaste. ❤
Beautiful post.
Very sweet of you to say so, Bonnie. Have a great rest of the weekend! ❤
What a great post. The language of flowers! Your zinnias look amazing, past and present. And lucky you to have Claire in your life.
She is a blessing, that’s for sure, Christine. I think of her every time I see a zinnia. ❤
What a wonderful tribute to your friend and the generosity of your heart. Never knew how to pronounce that z-word before. Now I know the true pronunciation: Love.
Wow. Your words never cease to wow me, Kathy. ❤
Dearest Stacy,
Are you able to look inside my Picture files? While we had the dreaded flooding in the basement, I did scan in-between emptying the wet vacs, lots of old slides. From the mid 80s came those colorful colored photos; full with ZINNIAS. We grew so many of them and very successful. Many nosegays we got from that patch and shared them generously. They at times got mildew all over them, that was the only problem as they seem to grow regardless what you did to them.
It is a flower of happiness; that’s for sure!
Hugs to you and happy Sunday.
Mariette
gplus.to/MariettesBacktoBasics
I like that – a flower of happiness. I’m glad you were able to save your old slides. ❤
Great story! Got to love zinnias! 🙂
I do, indeed, Sibella. ❤
I love these. They were always the lavendar softness in the garden filled with brash yellows.
xxx
Yes, yes, I know exactly what you mean, Red. ❤
A beautiful story, and the zinnias are a fantastic (and beautiful) illustration!
Claire is a beautiful story, Guap. I am only the writer. ❤
Lovely blog! Sending you great vibes Mrs. Allbritton 🙂
Thank you, chère Charisse. ❤