It is funny how over time we come to associate people with images, smells or symbols.
I remember being young and visiting her house. There were butterfly magnets on the fridge, preserved butterflies under glass and cross-stitched pillows. She never crossed over into cluttered or over done but her love of them was obvious.
When I met my best friend in high school I found that she also had a grandmother with a love of butterflies. And I can say that Mrs. Christy was one of the kindest people I have ever met, a true southern lady. I remember when she passed away how devastated my friend was. I went with her to get the only tattoo that she has, a tribal butterfly sitting on top of a heart. It is a reminder that her grandmother will always be with her.
I have been told stories and legends about butterflies. The most poignant being that if a butterfly lands on you, you regain your innocence. I wish that was true. But I can tell you this. There is something magical about standing in a conservatory and watching hundreds of butterflies glide lazily through the air. It is so serene and awe-inspiring, I understand why my grandmother loves them so.
So this is for my sweet grandmother, who loves me over many miles and choices. Thank you for being a source of unconditional love in my life. I know I am greatly blessed.