grandma’s amaryllis: old roots, new blooms, and neighborly debates
When I visited my grandma last weekend, I was swept back to my childhood, watching her tend to her beloved amaryllis by the window. She still uses the same clay pots and homemade compost she swears by, while I’ve been tempted by self-watering planters and store-bought mixes.
Her amaryllis is a showstopper—towering, bold, and unapologetically red. Neighbors walking by always stop to stare, some reminiscing about their own mothers’ gardens, others quietly judging the wild, untamed look that doesn’t quite fit our HOA’s neat, modern aesthetic.
We laughed about how, in her day, gardens were wild and free, a patchwork of family history and local lore. Now, there’s pressure to keep everything uniform and tidy, even if it means sacrificing a bit of soul. Grandma says the amaryllis is her rebellion—a living memory and a challenge to the rules.
With the weather swinging from frost to sudden warmth, I worry about her old methods, but she just shrugs, trusting the rhythms she’s always known. Maybe she’s right, or maybe it’s time for a new approach. Either way, her amaryllis stands as a bold, beautiful question: do we honor tradition, or embrace change?
#gardeningmemories #familytraditions #amaryllis #Gardening
