Why do I love gardening so? Not something I’ve put a lot of thought into until now. Gardening is freeing. Tending to my gardens may be the only time throughout the day when my brain is quiet. I’m not thinking about work or bills, conversations I’ve had, or things I need to/should have done. I’m not thinking about the future or the past or all the things in between. I’m also not thinking about the billion other things I randomly think of in a day. I’m simply not thinking, and it is lovely. It’s serenity in my backyard. And sure, I love gardening for the same reasons others do – the dirt between my fingers, being one with nature, the beauty it brings, the wildlife it provides for, but mostly for serenity.

“Everything that slows us down and forces patience, everything that sets us back into the slow circles of nature, is a help. Gardening is an instrument of grace.” May Sarton

Grandma D
My love of flower gardening has been with me for as long as I can remember. Thanks to my Grandmother. Just a bit of her bio: She lived a very modest life with my Grandfather and their five children, all boys. She worked with children with severe learning disabilities; later in life, she worked at a local florist. My Grandfather died suddenly when my father was in his early teenage years, leaving my Grandmother widowed at a very early age. She was a strong, independent, hard-working woman. She had grace and dignity.

One of my earliest memories involves my Grandmothers flower gardens. They were breathtaking. As if it only happened yesterday, although it was more like 30+ years ago, I remember standing in her front flower bed learning about Impatience (one of her favourite flowers along with Morning Glories and Roses). It was the most fascinating thing seeing the little green seed pods pop with the slightest touch. Then, I was smitten. She was so at peace in her gardens, tenderly caring for her flowers.

She was a lovely woman; my entire life I’ve aspired to be like her. Enchanting quite possibly describes her best. When she passed in 2002 I had a difficult time, and I think like so many times as she had done, I turned to my garden.

Grandpa

Yep, there I am, perm and all. Cultivating the garden with my Grandpa, 1987, in his fancy contraption. He also contributed to my love of gardening. He taught me how to make my garden grow. He taught me about soil and how to care for it, why weeding is an important process and what a good day’s work can accomplish.

My parents, in my early years, worked shifts. That meant I spent a lot of my summers with my Grandparents. Grandpa would start his day early, have breakfast with Grandma, and head down to his garage – where he spent most of his time tinkering. I would roll out of bed just in time to watch the Price Is Right. After all, it was summer break! We would all have lunch together, catch the latest episode of Y&R, then head out, leaving Grandma to her bookwork. The next few hours were spent working in the garden and maintaining the lawn.

He wasn’t big on flowers. But he did always have a row or two of Gladioli. The year I started mowing the lawn, the Glads didn’t stand a chance! There was a slight slope down to the garden; I can’t exactly say what happened, but down the slope I went in reverse and the rest is history. That time spent with my Grandfather, I will cherish forever.