My mother’s parents were hotel managers. I remember visiting them when they managed The Jaeckel Hotel in Statesboro, Georgia in the 60’s … before it was renovated and used as a City Hall building.
I remember when The Ware Hotel, in the heart of downtown Waycross, was their responsibility. I still remember standing on the setee beside the window and looking from the second or third floor of their apartment down onto the train yard below … those trains coming and going all hours … hooking up, backing up and moving to and fro. I remember being fascinated by the multicolored lights in the fountain on the sidewalk. And I remember walking with my Pop around the corner to the bank in the mornings to make a deposit. The teller would hand me a tiny five pack of lifesavers and I was sure that Waycross was the entryway to heaven.
When my grandfather, Walter Carroll, was responsible for the goings on at The Magnolia Manor (an assisted living/nursing home) in Americus, Georgia, I learned to love plums picked fresh off a tree, as there was a row of these established trees in their backyard. And the front yard was adorned with a single, sturdy Mimosa tree. Its limbs were strong enough and low enough to the ground, that this tree was perfect for climbing.
While nestled in the top of that tree in the summer, I learned to love the sweet, peachy smell of a Mimosa flower with it’s feathered beauty of blooms … proud and upright like a showy feathered plume in the sun. I remember the beautiful leaves …. compound with tiny leaves up and down individual arms off limbs. Bees buzzed all around in search of nectar, but I don’t remember ever getting stung.
I don’t have to be close to a tree to have my memory draw me back to that delicious sweet smell. The sight of a bloom is enough trigger.
The sight and sweet aroma of Mimosa makes me happy and brings back and delicious childhood memories of my grandparents and one of the things that I learned to love because of their influence in my life.
What makes YOU smile
this marvelous Monday morn?