My grandmother grew the most beautiful roses at her home in Fredericksburg, Virginia. She had an amazing green thumb. I always knew that when I had a place of my own, I would plant roses and holly as a way of remembering those happy visits to the little house my grandparents built in 1956. The smell takes me right back to that place.
She turned 95 on May 3 this year and although the Alzheimer's has started to rob her of her memory, she's still going strong physically. I send her roses every year for her birthday.
She is part of the legacy of strong, capable women in my family. She put herself through school at a time when women didn't go to college. She taught English and business, even serving as acting principal for a time, and kept the books for my grandfather's grocery store. She raised two amazing children, my aunt and my father. She worked hard for her version of the American dream.
She is my inspiration in life and in the garden.
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