Four years ago I took a cutting from my mum’s eight foot high hibiscus bush, to be one of the mementos I brought with me as we cleared the house we had all known for some fifty years. The plant had been years in the growing and was (maybe still is) a spectacular feature by the back door, smothered in dense blue flowers.
My cutting has been tucked away among my many other pots, I had doubted that it would take. I moved it aside a few weeks ago, a little straggly thing. Then this morning, pow, this stunning single bloom appeared from nowhere. It really is like my mum popping up to say Hello.
Those small mementos – plants, spoons, a sweater, wearing her watch – still bring comfort .
The next day the colour had changed. Apparently if grown in full sun they are more blue.
[For the horticulturalists, the books tell me it’s either Hibiscus syriacus Blue Satin (‘Marina’) or Blue Bird, I didn’t bring a label away.]