Campanula

Five months ago today, Sandy walked to the deck to sit a while. It wasn't an easy trip from the bed in the living room, through the dining room (pausing to sit for a bit), through the kitchen, and out the door to a supportive chair on the deck. It was important to her, an accomplishment the home-care nurse hadn't expected her to achieve. And it was the last time Sandy saw our back yard.

The campanula were in bloom then. Both the front yard and the back yard were overwhelmed by campanula in late June and early July this year. They self-seed enthusiastically, settling into gaps between patio bricks and every other neglected bit of ground. We've not minded this weedy behavior, because they're beautiful and delicate, in purple or white. Sandy considered most purple flowers close enough to qualify for her "blue flower" category, so they were very welcome. 

Sandy often paired the campanula
with blooms from her yellow rose.

I put together a little Day of the Dead shrine for Sandy this fall. It's not part of my culture, and I fumbled my way through it. Apparently, the tradition is to include marigolds in the shrine, as their scent is supposed to attract the souls of the dead. (Gardeners know that marigolds are used as trap plants because they attract pests, too.) I didn't have any marigolds, and Sandy wasn't a real marigold fan. So I clipped some orange calendula instead, figuring the color was similar at least (and Sandy liked calendula). Then I went looking for some blue color, because that's what would really attract Sandy's soul. I found a few late bloomers in the garden, and was surprised to see a pale purple campanula standing proudly from a narrow area in the patio near the birches. I snipped it happily. I put all the little flowers in a small glass bottle we'd bought at a flea market in Paris, and it pleased me; the grouping looked very much like dozens of casual bouquets Sandy had put together for our kitchen windowsill or my desk over the years.

Today, I was sweeping leaves from the patio, now that the birches have finished shedding them. And there, despite the fact that it's December now and we're having freezing temperatures at night, was a pale purple campanula blooming right next to the sumac. I was just as happy to see it as I was to see the one on October 31.

I don't remember campanula blooming into the winter in the past, but it's possible I've just not noticed. They're obviously tenacious despite their apparent fragility. This year, though, they seem to be keeping me company in my grief, ensuring there's always a blue bloom in the back yard for Sandy. I approve.