My Daddy Would Laugh

My daddy suffered from clinical depression. I remember it starting when I was a teenager, but from what I've heard from other family members, it probably started when HE was a teenager. He married my mother when he was twenty-nine and she was thirty-four; he adored her, and they had a good marriage. She helped keep him steady, and encouraged him to use medication when it was necessary. They were married for more than fifty years...he passed away at the age of eighty-two, and she died about eighteen months later at the age of eighty-nine.

When he was in his sixties, his GP retired, and he and Mother had to find a new doctor. The doctor that he ended up using was a Godsend. He helped Daddy find medication that actually helped his depression, and didn't leave him groggy and a little grouchy most of the time. My niece and nephew got to know the man that I had known growing up...the man who loved to tell a joke, who loved to tease anyone and everyone, and was the life of the party. He had a wonderful chuckle, and a sparkle in his dark brown eyes.

At his mother's house, there was a plant growing just outside the back door that my daddy really liked. It was called "sweet shrub", and had a lovely aroma when it was in bloom. Daddy cut several branches from my grandmother's bush, and planted them at our house. He babied the cuttings, and finally got them to take root. My husband and I lived in the house next door to my parents, and the bushes were on our side of the lot, so we enjoyed them, too.

After Daddy died, Mother became more and more feeble, and had to move in with us. We began looking for a house that would be suitable for the three of us, and found one just around the corner from my sister's house. Unfortunately, Mother never lived in the house with us; she had to move to a nursing facility, and passed away six weeks later. My husband passed away about three months later, and I spent the next fourteen months trying to collect myself, and get on with the business of living.

I have always been a photographer, as was my mother and my paternal grandfather. When DH and I lived in our "other" house, he kept the yard in beautiful condition, and had many varieties of flowers that bloomed throughout the year. I was the official family photographer, and even had one of my photographs published in a national magazine. After we moved and DH died, I had no interest in my nature photography for quite a while, but I did continue to take family pictures.

This afternoon, I picked up my camera and walked out into the yard. I had seen the irises growing along the fence, and I wanted to see if I could get some good pictures. DH had grown irises at the other house, but these are a different color, and are quite lovely. I took several pictures, and as I moved up the incline of the yard, I caught a whiff of a lovely fragrance. There is a large bush separating the two iris patches, and it is a sweet shrub bush. My daddy would laugh...