We have been so lucky to spend the last six years of our lives in our beautiful, old home. We always knew we were just borrowing her for awhile. (I could write a great deal on that idea.) We have lived fully here, taking great pleasure in so many things, and leaving our own mark on her history.
Within the first week of our time here, my dad delivered to our doorstep a tiny lilac bush, in full, yet diminutive, bloom. We planted this wee thing at the end of our front porch in hopes that she would survive our lack of gardening knowledge. Survive it did. This small plant has become a formidable anchor in our garden, and our annual heady proclamation that spring has arrived.
This lilac is my favorite part of this house. The few short weeks that it blooms are my favorite time of the year. I spend some time each day with my nose stuck into the branches and usually find blossoms in my hair each night. Of all the material things in the world that bring me happiness, this is among my most highly cherished. I will miss her, but I am so thankful for the spring days I have spent with her.