The Story of Lavender in the Library

On Wednesday this week, I felt inspired.  Jo Mango - a wonderful singer-songwriter - performed one of her latest songs, Black Sun, in Glasgow's CCA.  The vocal delivery touched me.  So much so that it got me thinking about my own composition. How important is the human voice in portraying human emotion.  Indeed, many instruments demonstrate well how this can be embodied. On a personal note, however, I gain so much more insight from a vocal.  Vocals. Volcanic. Eruption.  I digress...

Lavender in the Library...
I think it's time to tell the story now.  The 'incident from 4th August 2006'. The day my grandmother passed away.  She went in the early hours. Paul, my very significant other half, was the last person by her side. Sad, of course, but later that day, a strange and beautiful thing happened that made me smile.

Bleary-eyed, after little sleep, two of my best friends (Sarah Jane and Emma) suggested we go have a relaxing time, herbal tea and good food, in a wee tea house called Tchai Ovna in Otago Lane, Glasgow. En route, down the same cobbled lane, we decided to stop by a small book shop: Voltaire & Rousseau.  Feeling weary, I aimlessly picked up a small, hardback book from the shelf.  Right now, I cannot remember the author nor the definite title... something along the lines of 'The Greatest Thing in the World'.  I do recall some handwriting in the inner cover, with a date - 1901 or thereabouts - (I remember thinking it was very old).

The book appeared to have a marker.  I opened it at the directed page.  There, in the top centre of two pages was a tiny, lavender-coloured, dried-out flower. I looked like a chrysanthemum. The verses read how love is the greatest thing in the world. 

Lavender was my grandmother's favourite colour.  Chrysanthemums were her favourite flower.  Warmth and comfort surrounded me when I read the words as the marker suggested.  This is the inspiration of the artefact.

The Search for the Book...
Over the past few days, I have been trying to hunt down the book.  Today, oh yes, I received a text from my Godfather to say it is now in the post. Iit had been held at his mother's house (my grandmother's elder sister), not long after the funeral.  She wanted to have it. I can't wait to see it again, but have promised to return it when the writing is over.