Gratitude Post

My mother’s passion is gardening. As a child, I remember that from spring to late fall if mom wasn’t in the house, she was out in the garden somewhere. The end of winter was marked by her enthusiasm at the first signs of the snowdrops appearing. Time in the spring was measured by the arrival of the snowdrops followed by the purple, cream and golden crocuses, then daffodils, hyacinths, tulips, irises (called ‘flags’ – a British slang term, in our home). Rainy May days coincided with the full, richly coloured peonies that drooped heavily. The garden was a constantly changing source of color and variety that I very much took for granted as I grew up. I loved looking at it and having fresh flowers in the house, however I didn’t want to have anything to do with it!

I can only remember one or two occasions of helping to remove dandelions. Mom was quite amenable to this arrangement and instead, she would take me around the garden to show off the latest delights of blooms and tell me the names of various plants that I promptly forgot. Every year, I ask the names of the same plants. And each year she patiently answers my questions. Gardening was boring, and monotonous, and slow for a 10 year-old who wanted to go and play with friends and ride her bike. It was still dull for the teenager who wanted to spend her summers at the beach. The twenty-something me also had better things to do with my time than pluck weeds and move dirt around. Why garden when there was so much else to do?

This past week, I spent a few days in Las Vegas. The scale and sensory stimulation of the place are almost indescribable – loud, large, liquored and neon are the most immediate terms that spring to mind. When I arrived home this weekend, I went out to mom’s ever-evolving garden that she has tended to, adding plants here and there each year for the past 35 years. As I inhaled the smoke-free air, I noticed the musky smell of the earth and the greeness of spring. With each breath my shoulders loosened a little more and I appreciated the space mom had created for us. I began cleaning out one of the beds, enjoying the sounds of the birds with their chirping and flitting about; the appearance of the beetles and ants as they tunnelled and crawled; and I noted with delight the appearance of 3 pine seedlings that are coming up in the yard from the big old pine that Mom says is dying. Again, I asked her the names of various plants and if this green thing was a ‘weed’ or a ‘plant’. When I came in, she quietly asked me how I enjoyed my time outside and I told her it was the best part of my week.