My dear gardening friends, this week I'd like you to make a cup of tea and sit down with me for a few minutes. I'd like to dedicate these words to someone who was my teacher, my inspiration, my guide, and part of my heart: my beloved Mom, who died last week.
You all have heard me share many stories about my Mom and her garden. Mom was a joyful, exuberant gardener, who loved to try new plants and new garden designs and new color combinations! She gardened without fear, her only goal to enjoy the garden and the pleasure of tending it over a fleeting summer.
From the time I was a toddler, Mom let me have my own little garden patch. She patiently taught me how to plant the seeds, and always let me pick whatever I wanted to try. As time went by, my garden space increased, and Mom encouraged me to expand my gardening skills. We'd study the seed catalogues together and pick out new things as well as our gardening favorites. How exciting it was to do this together and see our experiments flourish!
Over the years, I learned more than just how to plant seeds in our garden. My parents always grew a large garden, and much of it was shared with others. I can still see Daddy carefully setting layers of green and red tomatoes in flat boxes to be delivered to various destinations. Would you like some apples? Take a bag! Take two! How about a pail of peas? Nothing tastes like fresh peas! This lesson was learned in the garden but extended to our life beyond: the idea of giving back and sharing. It was the idea of looking around in the community, seeing a need, and seeing how you could help. This was second nature to my parents, and it was a wonderful example to grow up with.
What else did I learn in the garden? Mom and I talked about everything, and some of our best talks were out in the garden, on those quiet, warm summer evenings when even the ground feels warm and alive. We would be on our hands and knees, weeding the onions or the peas, and we would talk and laugh and share ideas till it was starting to get dark. Then we'd empty our pails of weeds and run into the house, make some tea, and bring it out to the back yard, unwilling to end the summer evenings that came and went so quickly.
And indeed, that's how life is, isn't it. You and I know that we, like our gardens, have seasons that roll along until the day comes when winter will not turn into spring again. Where did those times go? I always treasured and appreciated them, savored each and every one and yet, and yet, how I wish there could be more! That is one more lesson we must learn from our gardens: the lesson that every season should be cherished.
And so, my season with my beloved Mom is over, at least in this particular form. I have no doubt that when spring comes, she will be with me as I watch the first delicate blooms on our apple tree, or smell the first heavenly lily of the valley. And I will see her in every beautiful, wonderful gift of the garden. I could never thank her enough for all she has done for me; all I can do is tell her that I love her with my whole heart, as big as the whole world. I'll love you always, Mom.
Please join the Yorkton and District Horticultural Society at our regular meeting on Wednesday, February 16. Our guest will be Kevin Young speaking on roses. Please note that the meeting is in the Sunshine room at SIGN on North Street.
