I didn't know until this week that my mother carried a bunch of violets as her wedding bouquet. Or maybe I had forgotten and tucked that piece of knowledge into the old sky-blue Samsonite suitcase with its hard shell and tufted interior. But when the wild violets suddenly sprang up all over our yard , I knew that my mother would be thrilled. And she was. She arrived for a visit earlier this week.
I also knew that my grandfather, my Mama's Daddy, would have liked those violets. He was a man who loved a wild yard and I loved that about him.
My mother and I are now headed back to Louisiana. My Grandpa passed away this morning. The morning of my 40th birthday. Life and death and wild violets all somehow intertwined.