Knowing trees, I understand the meaning of patience. Knowing grass, I can appreciate persistence. Hal Borland

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I got my love of gardening from my mom. She was a fantastic gardener. She often recounted that the first thing she ever planted was a packet of nasturtium seeds as a child in the soil outside her tenement home in Worcester Ma. My grandmother chided her and told her they'd never grow. Of course nasturtiums love poor soil and they grew fabulously. So much for my gloomy grandmother's forecast.

I'm pretty sure my mother's love of gardening bloomed then.

Every house we ever lived in was surrounded by lovely gardens. I always admired them but took no part in their creation or maintenancence. Until my mom and I shared a house in my adulthood. Having a place to call our own really inspired me to create the landscape with her. Six years of gardening and trips to garden centers every chance we got.

Later I developed a relationship with someone and moved on. It really pained me to leave those gardens behind.

When my partner and I bought a house together I excitedly created my own flower beds.
They were beautiful thanks to my mom's master advice and plants and cuttings from the gardens we'd shared.

Eventually my marriage soured and came to an end. My gardens faded in the uncertainty of what was to happen about the house.
One of my friends remarked that in a divorce the yard and gardens are the first things to go. So true.

I've lived like a tenant in this house for the last three years.

Last week the issues surrounding the house were finally resolved. I have a mortgage completely to myself. The gardens will return!

My mom would be so happy and proud.