Gardening is cheaper than therapy...a common phrase we hear all the time. I never really thought much about it until this weekend when I was in my Dad's garden.
My Dad’s garden also known as Grandpa’s Garden. He spent many of hours out there; planting, watering, weeding, harvesting and who knows what else. We never really understood the reasons he spent so much time out there. It was his time. His therapy. It was what he enjoyed to do. Gardening was his therapy. His time to relax and focus on those little plants.
He always had a large raised bed garden. When I was kid I have fond memories of the garden and growing veggies with my Dad. He always planted his garden on Good Friday. God would help his garden grow if he planted it then and he always had a bountiful garden. Tomatoes, bell peppers, zucchini, squash, cucumber, eggplant, green beans, pumpkins, sunflowers and whatever he wanted to try. It was his place that he loved.
Now it is a place of remembrance. A place to be connected to my Dad. A place to carry on what he started. Now it is a place where we can finish his tomorrow he wasn’t able to have.
This year he planted the usual tomatoes, peppers and squash that keep getting too big. He planted cucumbers that are overwhelmingly bountiful. He planted green beans and sunflowers that are wishing he was still here to give them to TLC they need. But he planted new things this year, too.
Now those plants are our therapy. I may live 350 miles away from Grandpa's Garden, but every time I go home, I will be spending time in that garden. Maybe the tears we shed will help those pumpkins grow. Maybe our guardian angel will make the best crop yet. Or maybe us girls ruined the planting and nothing will sprout.
Whatever it is, it will always be Grandpa's Garden and that garden will forever be in my heart.
Until Next Time,
Almond Girl Jenny