Dad's Forget-Me-Nots

It was a long time ago now that Dad came over to our previous house with some Forget-Me-Not seeds from his own garden. I'd say that it was at least twenty years ago that he planted a few seeds from his garden into ours. Over the years, they reseeded themselves prolifically wherever they happened to land and take hold in the previous year. It was quite a display that they produced each and every spring. Although they aren't the main flower in bloom in the top photo of that former garden of ours, you can see some to the bottom left of the photo as well as toward the swing near the back right. (Note: the main flowers in the top picture are ground phlox, and all of what you see came from three little plants. Unlike forget-me-nots, they are perennials and spread through root growth rather than re-seeding. I wish I had brought some of those with me as well.) These flowers became more special in the years after Dad departed. Although he was gone, every year, Dad's gift would re-spring anew wherever it willed, and I felt connected and blessed.

I don't garden very much here, but we have managed to bring a few seeds with us. In this locale, the plants no longer seem to grow aplenty, but two came up in the backyard again this spring, and Thesha has had one come up in her garden too. Once again, I'll try to make sure the seeds have a chance to find fertile ground for next year, but gardening here is more problematic, so I don't know how much longer we'll have Dad's forget-me-nots.

Meanwhile, they very well do the job that their name implies, for they cause me to fondly remember old Dad. Although it might be said that one shouldn't require a physical keepsake to remind us of past events or former loved ones, it helps to have such souvenirs to jog our consciousness periodically. We are, after all, both physical and spiritual beings, and experiencing something with one of our physical senses can cause our spirits to feel re-connected with the past.

While I am all for living in the present and don't want to dwell in the past, I do appreciate the poignancy of certain memories, and that's how Dad's forget-me-nots make me feel — poignant, connected. Thanks Dad.

Below: this years forget-me-nots.