For as long as I can remember, I've associated the pansy flower with my grandpa because every spring he'd plant them around various trees on his property. According to floral linguists, the pansy represents ideas, thought, renewal, creativity, contemplation, and remembrance. My dear grandpa was a bit of an inventor, a crafty creative, a considerate charmer, a honor-er of tradition, and a free thinker to boot, so this "floral association" doesn't surprise me.
Today marks five years since my grandpa's passing, but I know he's always with me. One day last summer (2017), something inside of me called for a leisurely drive. While aimlessly navigating the back roads, I approached a local greenhouse and quickly pulled into their driveway. For over forty-five minutes, I browsed their inventory before spotting the perfect potted [assorted] plant. All of the flowers were beautiful, but three precious, precocious, purple and yellow pansies primarily drew me toward that particular plant. Once home, the potted plant was immediately placed on the freshly tilled soil, and I began singing the flowers' praises. That became a daily practice, one I felt connected me to my grandpa, for months.
Winter arrived and the last of the potted soil froze, which saddened me, but I knew spring promised more pansies. Soon enough, the grass turned from yellow to green and little plants popped up, one being a pansy. There wasn't a single pansy in the grass last year, so that surprised me. Within a week, a crop of pansies sprouted in the grass extending to the soil. I couldn't believe it. My heart blossomed with joy. Come summer, I uprooted and replanted (or potted) over forty pansies! To me, that [further] confirmed my grandpa continues to drop thoughtful little hints he's always watching over me. I love you forever, Grandpa.