I wrote this post a few days ago. But it seems fitting to post today since it is my grandpa’s 92nd birthday.
Happy birthday, Grandpa Frank.
Over the past few years my relationship with my grandpa has grown.
We talk on the phone regularly. Grandpa is a talker and a storyteller.
About a month ago he was telling me about his lilies. The bulbs reproduce. So he had recently separated and potted new bulbs for his kids.
He told me he would send me some in the mail. Sure enough, a few days later I get a package in the mail with a clod of dirt. I had forgotten about our conversation and wondered why Grandpa was sending this to me.
Oh yes, the lily bulbs.
Curt and I bought soil and pots for the bulbs and we planted them.
The other night when I came home the headlights hit the bulbs and I saw pink. I was so excited. I took photos with the flash.
The next morning I went outside and took a photo during the day, which is pictured above.
I called my grandpa that morning to tell him that there were flowers. He was surprised and happy to hear that.
I asked him again to tell me the story of the bulbs as they started off with his mom, who I knew as Grandma Chihak.
She started off with the lilies in Dubuque, Iowa, in the 1930s; then they moved to Tucson, my hometown; then to Wisconsin; back to Tucson; and then back to Dubuque.
These lilies have a lot of history in my family and I plan to continue these growing and flourishing.
Grandpa Frank told me that every two to three years I can dig them up and separate the bulbs. That’s what he has done for years and what his mother did as well.
I love learning about family history and taking on traditions.
At some point, maybe I, too, can pass bulbs on to others members of the Chihak family and keep a tradition going.