Nice photos and plants from your grandma! Thanks for sharing your story.
At the cemetery where my father was buried, people walked beside his grave where the grass started to form a pathway. My mother didn't like this. My father just died, and she didn't like the thought of people walking beside his tomb when there's a proper walkway just a few steps from the gravestone.
She took some of the little pots of Indian trees at home that me and my father planted a couple of months before. Those were the first seedlings I've ever planted myself.
Now, 24 years later, with my mom buried with my father, those trees grew so high that I can't help but feel sentimental of the fact that something we both created are still alive and thriving through several typhoons for 2 decades.
Whenever me and my son get the chance to visit the family's grave, we'd be searching the grounds for fallen seeds hoping we'll have more of what me and my dad had.
Nice photos and plants from your grandma! Thanks for sharing your story.
In the cemetery where my father was buried, people walked beside his grave where the grass started to form a beaten path. My mother didn't like this. My father just died, and she didn't like the thought of people walking beside his grave, ruining the mowed Bermuda grass, when there's a proper walkway just a few steps from the gravestone.
She took some of the little pots of Indian trees at home that me and my father planted a couple of months before. Those were the first seedlings I've ever planted myself.
Now, 24 years later, with my mom buried with my father, those trees grew so high that I can't help but feel sentimental of the fact that something we both created are still alive and thriving through several typhoons for 2 decades.
Whenever me and my son get the chance to visit the family's grave, we'd be searching the grounds for fallen seeds hoping we'll have more of what me and my dad had.