It dawned on me that my grandmother still wanted to create and tend to something even at the age of 91…and that it doesn’t matter what age we are, we are creative beings meant to create and we must nurture and honor that part of ourselves. Perhaps I’m reading into what these eggs meant. For all I know, they could have just been a necessity for her to have with her porridge.
Earlier in the day, my dad showed me the chrysanthemum she planted before she passed. Although she didn’t have a garden of her own anymore, she did manage to sneakily plant a chrysanthemum in the courtyard. I was astonished at how large and healthy this plant had grown to be. As we stood there and felt the warmth of the sun beaming down on us, I looked at the cheerful yellow buds that are about to burst into full bloom and it made me feel as if grandma was smiling at us.