Here in South Carolina, we are fortunate that we are able to enjoy all four seasons. I love the spring because it is the time that all of the plants come alive and erupt from their slumber.
We have a beautiful neighbor next door. She moved in a couple of years ago. You can always count on her positive attitude. She is outside most mornings and most evenings. We watch her snatching at the errant weed, sweeping the sidewalks and tending to her flower garden. I keep my eye on her… the children keep their eyes on her too. All of the other neighbors that surround us look out for her.
She tells us that she loves to watch the new growth on the crepe myrtle tree. She drowns herself in the aroma of the Confederate Jasmine vines that entangle our adjoining fence.
She had me clip some of the ivy that climbs toward the sky in the centuries old oak tree that anchors the side of our yard. We spent the good part of an hour nipping and cutting the leathery vines into bunches that she sat on her window sill in kid-sized juice glasses . In a very long two weeks, the tiny sinuous roots proved ready to be planted on the side of her well manicured back deck.
I see her looking into the air on cool mornings. She closes her eyes and takes in the sounds and smells of the freshness that surrounds her. She makes her way to the front porch and relaxes in the breeze as she pets the striped cat at her feet.
I saw her talking with the kids the other day. They were gone for a very long while so I went over to check on them. She was telling them about the small shoe box of items she held in her hands.
There was a small tin soldier, a bag of buttons and a small box that held tissue. On the surface they meant nothing and we would have never cared about their meaning.
The tin soldier was a childhood toy that belonged to her husband who was killed in the War… The buttons were a collection her mother kept during the Great Depression and the small box that held the tissue was used by her aunt in an old country church.
She insisted the children take her little collectibles. They meant so much to her. She wanted to pass on the memories that were attached to her life. The children looked to me for approval and we now keep her treasures on the book shelf in the living room for safe-keeping.
We all know her as Grandma Jean. She turned 98 last month. She is a wonderful spirit that we treasure as a neighbor and a friend.
Shannon R Killman
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