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Writer's pictureAngela Sanford

Lilac Time

by Anita Benedict


I have always loved a purple lilac.


We had a lovely white lilac in our yard that had been part of the house through three families growing up. We had cut it down when it was looking a bit rough but it came back again, until Hurricane Dorien destroyed it. We have a few of its family members around the yard but I miss that one a lot.


Growing up I was envious of those who had the large purple lilac bushes in their yard. A neighbour had a lovely one in front of his home that was perfect for a young person to crawl inside and let their imagination soar. It could have been a cave or a lost world, the possibilities were endless. My aunt had one growing that never bloomed. The leaves were lovely and big but nary a bloom was to be found. It was planted under a maple tree so perhaps the shade was the reason, but I was also told to never plant a lilac in a month ending in “y”.


Now my yard has several purple lilac trees, so many that they out number the white variety. The were scavenged from family and any place getting rid of one. They were all suckers from an original large plant, and it is amazing how tough those suckers are. Make sure they have water at first and they will thrive.


This year the purple lilac became a back drop for my daughter’s grad photos and it was honestly an emotional process. She had missed the deadline for the official photos, but perhaps it was all meant to be. All the memories came tumbling back of my own childhood, of her childhood, of people gone but not forgotten and memories of past events with a purple lilac back ground for photos and even the old white lilac. Oh, that heavenly, heady scent can sure evoke memories.


The first back drop we tried was ok, but it was simply too plain for this bright young individual. Then we tried the purple lilac in full bloom, the first one I managed to grow. Just like her, now in full bloom, transplanted like the bush itself to a new spot to grow. She glowed like the bundle of blooms. Two beauties who have struggled, but overcame and became stronger. Tenacious, comes to mind.


As she smiled for the camera, I compared her teen years to how tough it was to grow these lovely trees. It has been a rough journey for her at times but there has been much beauty. Raising this child was comparable to my determination to grow those lilacs! Perhaps I need to find another one to salvage and plant it at her new home to thrive along with her.


There is something magical about those purple lilacs for me and as an official empty nester, I will see how many I can salvage and plant to keep me occupied. The lilac for me has become a symbol of nostalgia, of love, of hope, of beauty, of patience.

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