One Bed at a Time

Growing up, our backyard neighbors had a beautiful garden. They had corn and sunflowers, cucumbers and tomatoes. It was such a special place for all the neighbors to see. As I grew older so too did the neighbors. The woman became sick and no longer gardened. The man stopped soon after. I remember coming home from college and the garden looked so sad and lonely, overgrown and neglected. I told my dad just recently that I wanted to garden in their yard, that I wanted to make that space beautiful again.

Now I am home, waiting for my dad to return home as well. Waiting to have a funeral, waiting for closure. What does one do while they wait?

The other day that man gave me permission to garden in his yard. The first day I walked over with a shovel and a rake. I got in there and started to pull out the dandelions and grass that came up to my knees. I realized this was a big job, maybe an impossible job and I needed a garden fork. So I went to a neighbors and they lent me their fork, giving me their condolences as I walked away.

The second day I kept weeding, and formed a few beds where peas were to go. Another neighbor came out and invited me in for water and a cookie. We chatted, she hugged me, and with her condolences back to the garden I went.

The third day I continued my work. So much work to be done. Three neighbor kids came over with plants and seeds in their arms, things they wanted to see grow in the garden. I told them I'll make space for their things and we could all plant together.

Yesterday I was forming another bed, weeding and shaping the space. Listening to the birds chirping, the leaves crunching. Watching the creepy crawlies in the soil, the worms and ants all doing exactly what they are meant to do. I looked up and was surprised at what I saw. A garden. This was really becoming a garden. Mounded beds for cucumbers. A trellis for the peas. Dill, cilantro, and basil. Onions too. Here I was, weeding and shaping one bed at a time. Not even realizing all my work was creating a garden.

I hear people do crazy things when they lose somebody. That crazy thing for me has been gardening. Gardening a space that I won't even be here to care for and to see grow. Yet here are all the neighbors. Here are all these people excited to see this garden, happy to help where they can. One says he will come out and water it, another says she will guide the cucumbers' vines in the right direction. How beautiful it is to see a community come together and care for one another. How wonderful it is for neighbors to come together and garden.

So here I am waiting. Waiting for so many things. Yet I have to remember, take one day at a time. Take one hour at a time, one weed at a time. And slowly but definitely everything I do will piece together just as it should. How lucky I am to have the time to create such a beautiful space for the neighbors to share. My dad would be so proud.