When I was young, my maternal grandparents lived in Montgomery, Ohio. From my earliest visits to their home, I have snapshots of memories; no great detail but hazy pictures. My grandpa’s radio. Going to school with my grandmother. The Hadley potter plates she used on her table. Homer’s Hump – that dip in the road that made my tummy flip. The stand of Tiger lilies on a nearby country road. I couldn’t take you back there today – those lilies may not even be there anymore. Yet they’re a picture frozen in time in my mind.

I’m always on a shoestring budget, so I was happy to discover some Tiger lilies at Home Depot more than a year ago. I created a corner for them in my yard and planted six bulbs. Four came up last year and never flowered. This year, six lilies laden with flowers appeared. I’ve been watching, waiting for them to blossom. This morning I was giddy to see they had bloomed.

I wandered over for a first peek. Not a spot in sight. The lily bulbs sold as Tiger lilies, the package that had Tiger lilies pictured on the label, are not Tiger lilies. Despite a long-awaited disappointment, I’m trying to find joy in these pretty flowers.