delecatable elixir

a week's vacation, back to work, travel for work and boom its the weekend again.

i had a STELLAR vacation. all i did was garden. garden at our place, then my Mom's and back to our place.

may 15th was a year ago that my Dad died, i was a little stressed about it. a year is an arbitrary date that seems to be set after a tragic even in which, apparently, most people have told me 'you will start to feel better'. i am not sure about that but ...i celebrated by doing what my Father loved to do, which was garden. part of that was planting a vegetable garden, his real passion was being a farmer on that family farm he grew up on. i loved it when he talked about 'the farm'.

in the mini raised bed is corn, sweet of course, valencia orange tomatoes, basil, french breakfast radish, mini carrots and a few giant vanilla marigolds started from seed, for pest control. although the sugar maple towering above was trimmed last year, i'm still not sure we'll get enough sun for the veggies especially for the corn but we'll see and it sure is fun to try!

ah now the pots (these are only a few, i might have mentioned before i have a bit of a pot obsession) there are mustard greens, tender swiss chard, rosemary, oregano, lime mint, peppery cress and edible flowers like nasturtium, YUM!

gardening is for me a delecatable elixir, physically, emotionally, it excites ALL my senses, makes me feel completely a part of the natural world, but most of all it connects me firmly with my Dad and with that softens the deep deep sorrow of missing him.

first

My Dad died, everywhere I go this is what I want to say, I just want to blurt it out, so I am saying it here in my notebook, this diary of life. My Dad died, he died May 15, 2008.

It was horrible, it was tragic and I'm hurting, he didn't hear the Doctor tell him, I told him. I put my hand on his chest, as close to his heart as I could looked deep into his being and said it. He almost cried, I almost cried.

My Mom is doing pretty well, from what she tells us how she engaging life. People ask me how she's doing, they're caring, kind. I'm not always doing well, gripped by overwhelming grief. I'm told the first year is the hardest, the first Father's Day, the first Thanksgiving, the first Christmas...

My brother and I cared for Dad at my Mom and Dad's home, for his last 8 weeks. It started months before that, it was a long hard road, but so quick looking back, because at one point we thought we won. When I went back home, to my home after the wake, I went to work in the garden, in the garden I wept, I wept deep down through. I felt my Dad everywhere, I felt him in the dirt, in the trees and plants, in the air and silence all around me. My Dad was a farmer in his heart in his soul. I miss my Dad. I really love being in the garden.