Season's End

As another season in the garden comes to an end, we rake the leaves, clean the garden and say goodbye to summer's grace.

This time of year is always bittersweet, while produce from the garden continues to be enjoyed thru these colder months, and the list of daily to-do's begins to lessen, it's also a time of loss and sorrow.

There will be no more flowers, butterflies or surprise fruits to be enjoyed. The last vine ripened tomatoes or crisp green beans are quickly being harvested with no more to replace them.

Taking a moment from the hard work and sitting on AunT's bench and looking over the garden an array of memories from seasons' past reveals a sobering emotion.

The sharpness of our memories of AunT is fading. The kids are remembering less and less  of her personality, of their time with her. As they've grown more inquisitive about her, it can be difficult to decide if what they are remembering about her is from their own experience, or one that they've been told and made their own.

They ask more questions about her, aware now that their curiosity don't cause tears to flow as they did in years past.

It is when I'm in the garden that I grieve the most for my Sister.

That is where most of my memories with her were made, where our conversations moved beyond the casual. The garden is where my sister let down her guard and shared her fears, her daily challenges, of her life’s experiences and of all the research she’d done in preparing for life after graduating from college.

We debated, we argued and we shared. She ended nearly every conversation with “Don’t you DARE tell anyone.” She would then stand, right her clothing, breath deep and the facade would be firmly in place once again.

While the memories and tears do not flow as easily as they once did, resting in the garden after a hard day’s work the mood is still one of contemplation, reflection, and in the end, melancholy. That is, until I’m discovered by one of the kids, and they join me and begin the conversation about next year's garden.

As part of each growing season, you reflect on the details of the months past. What worked, what didn't, what you wish you had been able to do had there been more time and energy in the days.

It’s not unlike parenting. I can only hope that my talents extend beyond those of the garden.