Gardening as Grieving

Planting flowers even though Bruce is dead.

My little garden

My late husband LOVED plants. He loved indoor plants and outdoor plants. He made sure we always had lovely annuals in our boxes and pots. He kept a shamrock alive that was his mother’s (she died in 1989) and a Christmas Cactus that was his step-mother’s (she died in 2012.) Before we had children, we had plants. We eventually graduated to a Beta fish, a couple of hamsters, a cat, and then we were pretty sure we could keep a baby alive. Early in our marriage we moved from the coast of North Carolina to the North Georgia Mountains. We did not know that the moving company wouldn’t transport live plants across state lines. So, we packed our 64 houseplants into my Ford Escort and traveled down the road. There was a 7 foot Ficus tree leaning across my shoulder from the back seat the whole way. It was quite a trip.

In the summer of 2024 while Bruce was sick, no one planted anything. We had other priorities. So the previous summer’s flower pots went to seed and filled with nasty weeds. Empty pots filled with water and became mosquito breeding grounds. The Tupperware bowl that Bruce used to mix the soil the last time he planted sat on the back deck, filled with trash. I just couldn’t bring myself to do anything about any of it – so I ignored them all.

In happier times, I’ve enjoyed planting tomatoes and peppers in pots on the deck. Sometimes I’d even toss in a mint plant or some rosemary. So when my friend Tamara posted on Facebook that she had free tomato plants for the taking, I decided the time had come. I needed to get my act together and care about what was going on in my back yard.

Saturday I got up early and drove to Rome, Georgia to claim my prizes. This was the first time I’d seen Tamara since Bruce died. We had some catching up to do. We talked about the final weeks of his life, how I’ve been doing since then, her recent retirement from a church she truly loves, even how she met her husband. (I’d never thought to ask before.) After some quality time petting cats and convincing her little dog that I wasn’t dangerous, we headed up to the greenhouse to pick out some plants. She helped me pick four tomato varieties and tossed in one Japanese pepper that isn’t too hot. Apparently, if you cook it in olive oil, is better than French fries. (We’ll see.)

Next I went to Home Depot to gather supplies and a few annuals. I got potting soil (only ever Miracle Grow – Bruce would haunt me otherwise.) I chose some lovely orange and purple flowers that Bruce would definitely know the name of and I definitely do not. I came home, pulled out my wagon, loaded it up, and trapsed to the back yard. Let me say, those pots were a hot mess. There were bugs, and gunk and trash, and I’m pretty embarrassed at the state of them. However, after 30 short minutes, all was well. The tomatoes were planted and caged. The little bitty pepper plant was safely in the center of a giant pot – probably way more than she needs, but we’ll see. The flowers were planted and everything got a good soaking of water. I was hot and sweaty and covered in grime, but I was happy. Tomorrow is my day off and I need to tackle the weeds in my back yard planting beds. (There is a prickly vine that is trying to choke my roses to death!)

Here's the thing. I don’t really like gardening. I do love having fresh tomatoes and lovely flowers. I love sitting on my screened-in porch, listening to the birds, watching the squirrels and feeling the breeze. And I really love my husband. If his spirit happens to blow through and make the wind chimes sing, I want him to be proud of our back deck – just like he would have been if he were here. I want him to know that I haven’t given up. I’m continuing to live – enjoying life – even without him. I know that’s what he wants for me. I’m going to keep on putting one foot in front of the other and enjoying every bit of life that I can. “Even broken hearts keep beating.”

Blessings Beloved. Nakupenda Sana. Selah.

Cathy