Petals of Tears in my Garden
Bonnie Moss Spring 2011
How long must I grieve? Or any one in grief for that
matter. Everyone grieves in their own way.There may
be stages of grief, but grief is very private and
personal. No one can fathom someone's grief,
nor is it their place to suggest that it is time to
move on.True, prolonged grieving can lead to
clinical depression.This is between the one grieving
and a professional.
I came across this book: They That Sow in Tears by Catherine Chappell
and Charles Nolan Sandifer. Both shared the heartache of the loss
of a child. Catherine's daughter and Charles' son were on the waiting
list for organ transplant. But they did not make it to receive the
In their grief, both found comfort working in their gardens. They
found out that they were not alone. Planting a memory garden
was a universal response to grief.
Love of gardening was one passion Eric and I shared. I did not
know anything about gardening- but he did. He patiently tilled
the soil in our first house to put in a garden. He planted a
vegetable garden, he dug up flower beds and that started my
interest in gardening. We went around to garden centers. He
taught me the difference between perrenial plants and annuals,
the different varieties of shrubs and bushes. I was born and
raised in the tropics where it is always summer and flowers are
always in bloom. The grass is always green. But I
have never done any gardening .
He was happy getting his hands dirty
planting seeds in the winter. When it
is time to plant the garden, it was a
pleasure to have the plants ready to dig in.
He had a new plant to surprise me every
season. We always toured the garden centers
to see what's new.
I love roses, and he gladly obliged. I actually
got carried away planting rose bushes, unaware
of the different characteristics of roses. There is tea
rose, there are floribundas which he favored for
their abundant blooms. I liked the rogusa roses
for a hedge and the blooms are fragrant. There are other
very throny rose bushes. I admit I made poor choices.
Towards the 21st century, he started to get sick and frail.
He was my gardening consultant. He patiently helped me start
seedlings, showed me how to start and to nurture these into
wonderful plants come summer. We moved to the lake and I
thought I would not have the room for gardening. The terrain
is rocky and at the end of the driveway was this eyesore of a
septic bed. He built wooden flower boxes so I can indulge
my love of gardening. Later,as frail as he was getting,
he shared in my joy when I created my really first garden
on my own- converted the septic bed into my private park.
On the dockside, he got a big flower bed built and another
one using raliway ties. It was my introduction to container
gardening.He was always willing to dig up a new flower
bed and lets me get carried away with gardening. In our
last house, he built his own small nursery, complete with
heating, lighting and ample space for the tools he needed.
I don't have the room nor the patience to build a greenhouse,
but since he passed away, I have a mini-nursery and grow
most of the annuals for my garden. I try new varieties of
seeds, but I grow his favorite flowers- marigolds and impatience.
Iris plants have a special place in my heart- he used to bring
in a bouquet of Iris from the garden.
Each Spring, as the plant world comes to
Life, I feel tears fall. Teardrops, like the
dewdrops on an early morning waking up
the petals, nourishing them and soon, these
will burst into an array of color and beauty.
Petals from my teardrops turn to lovely blooms.