Mom's Garden

My wife said the funniest thing to me on Sunday. She said, “The key to having a beautiful yard is to marry a woman who doesn’t want to ever be inside.” I had been outside for almost two days straight (with time off for sleep) working on our deck. I had put down new boards (with help from a friend), rented a sander (twice), sanded off all the paint, and put down stain. Our deck is huge, so it was a time consuming undertaking. This was my reason for buying the house.

We all had reasons why we voted for the house. My oldest wanted an upstairs. My youngest wanted the biggest room in the house (now he has two rooms). My wife picked it out online and approved of it with just a drive by. I walked in the backyard and fell in love. Now, I spend hours back there working, piddling, rarely just sitting.

I get this from my mom. I wish you could have seen her backyard. It looked (and still does, thanks to my dad) like something from Southern Living. Flowers everywhere. A covered little deck surrounded by plants and bird feeders. A back porch with cute furniture where she spent her mornings drinking coffee. Mom spent hours on her flower beds in every house we lived in. She would put on her visor and tank top and get to work. And, when she was done for the day, she would sit outside and read or drink coffee. Most of the time, we’d all sit outside together and just talk.

I don’t recall ever helping her in her flower beds until I got older. I actually remember thinking that there was no way I would ever spend all my time pulling weeds and taking care of flowers. I loved sitting on our front porch and our back porch and enjoying the flowers with Mom, but I wasn’t doing all that work. No way.

I don’t know how my sister felt about it, but I know for sure that as adults we both take after Mom. My sister’s yard is as beautiful as Mom’s, and I think mine is too. We both spend countless hours outside just like her. My wife was right. In the spring and summer, it is hard to get me to come inside.

When I am outside, I feel very close to my mom. She actually picked out most of my flowers for me. She and I even picked out my riding lawnmower, so I feel like she is with me even when I am mowing the grass, which I also do too much of.

Mom died on April 5 of last year. Today is April 1. Easter is April 5. I have a complicated relationship with Easter. As a Christian, I should be celebrating Jesus, but the most tragic events of my life have happened on Easter during the last eight years. So, Easter feels like torture to me. This year will be no different.

To ward off the sadness, though, my sister and I will be working in Mom’s garden. Mom would like that. Her great grandchild will hunt Easter eggs in her flower beds, and we will all sit around and talk about her.

When I get home, I will sit on my deck, and I hope the birds will come up to greet me while I sit. When I am in my garden, it doesn’t feel like Mom is gone because I see her in the birds and the flowers and the grass. She is all around.

I pray for peace this Easter--any I can get. And, I am so thankful I have a Mom who taught me how to love the beauty of Nature and who still works beside me in my garden.