Grief in the Garden

 Our dad passed away a month ago today. He lived his thoughtful, and normal. and extraordinary life right to the last minute. His death came quickly and painlessly, granting dignity as he and we would have wished. . .except for the “he is gone” part. 

Gardens are the stage for many memories of him. My first, I guess, is a toddler me lugging the blue salt box from the kitchen to join him for a lunch of tomatoes off the vine. And later, of getting the one and only spanking he ever gave me. Deserved for refusing to stop lobbing onto my brother’s head the giant dirt clods that were being turned up by dad’s garden tiller. Groundhogs had become dad’s nemesis, and two years ago I gave him a solar powered electric fence. He was hopeful for his best ever garden this year.

Normally weeding and planting would salve my grief, but a scheduled rotator cuff surgery has sidelined me. So as I heal, the talented team at Landscape X has installed the much anticipated irrigation system, and they are helping with the never-ending weeds. Hurricane Debby is bringing dark skies, and I am fighting boredom by credit-card-gardening, having just ordered massive amounts of bulbs and seeds for next year. I’m hopeful it will be our best-ever garden.

In Memory, James A. Emory  

January 5, 1933 - July 8, 2024

JRG