Peeking at My Mother's Garden
I decided to walk over and peek at my mother's old garden yesterday. I wondered how the new people who ended up with the house would deal with it. The fence was still around it. My mother and I painted it with one her friends, a woman named Wren. That was a sunny day. We painted the fence with two colors. The slats were purple and the posts green. But a really deep green. Almost an olive. I thought it would look terrible. But it came out wonderful. My friend Molly likes to describe people like my mother as "into neighborhoods." That would be someone who buys an old house and fixes it but keeps some part of its funky feeling. These houses are usually in poor areas of town. The new people in our old house seemed nice from a distance. I saw a woman and a kid. I'm not sure who else might live there. The garden has a few winter plantings. I'll get a better idea about it in a few months. I don't want to meet the new people. I don't want to tell them that a small part of my mother's ashes are in the garden. I don't want them to know that when they eat their vegetables from the garden they will be eating a Goddess. I just want them to eat forever.
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winter garden
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1 comment:
Well written and touching. You must have loved your mother very much. Mine has been gone for many years but I think of her each day.
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