Almost every Mother’s day I am rewarded with breakfast in bed and freshly squeezed juice to enjoy. I have received hand-made pottery, candles, purses, and artwork.
Sometimes I will get home-made cards, and exquisite flowers.
Having two grown-up kids and two teenagers, I have experienced many fantastic Mother’s Days.
The kids (unsurprisingly) know the kinds of things that bring me joy. It’s the thought. The effort. The creativity they use. It is so special to me that it brings about a tear to my eye.
When I was in one of the gardens weeding today, I became conscious of something pretty awesome.
At least 75% of my plants were given to me on or around Mothers Day! I even have a garden ornament that my oldest son made for me in welding class when he was just a freshman in high school. It means the world to me, especially since he will not be with me this year.
They are a living representation and demonstration of sorts.
Like a family there is much growth over the years. Sometimes dividing and pruning are necessary to maintain a healthy plant and share what you cherish and hold dear with others.
They are nurtured and protected as much as possible, but sometimes nature must take it’s course. Ultimately the plants come back to greet me and make me smile once again, usually stronger and even more beautiful.
There is also a few reminders of the mothers in my life gracing my garden.
There is a lovely pair of stone pots that I bought with a gift certificate from my mother years ago. The pots lie empty right now, still undecided about what to plant in them.
Although we are distant, I will soon be reminded (when the pots are full and in bloom), that where there is a seed planted and nourishment given, the plant will unavoidably become sturdy and charming as if it belonged all along.
There is also a gorgeous heirloom rose. This rose is directly taken from a parent rose that has been in my mother-in-laws life for 40+ years. I love seeing the old-fashioned beauty and simplicity of that pastel pink rose.
My gardens have many plants and items from my husband, my father, relatives, neighbors, and friends new and old alike.
I know many mothers will be out in their gardens today. Enjoy every second of it!
My Mother Kept a Garden
My Mother kept a garden,
a garden of the heart,
She planted all the good things
that gave my life its start.
She turned me to the sunshine
and encouraged me to dream,
Fostering and nurturing
the seeds of self-esteem…
And when the winds and rain came,
she protected me enough
But not too much because she knew
I’d need to stand up strong and tough.
Her constant good example
always taught me right from wrong-
Markers for my pathway
that will last a lifetime long.
I am my Mother’s garden.
I am her legacy-
And I hope today she feels the love
reflected back from me
~Author unknown~
wonderful garden and great memories ! hope you had a great mothers day !
I love that poem. Also thanks for sharing your garden and stories of it. It made me think of the many garden things I too have received from my children. Thanks again.
Very nice and the sentiment is touching! Nice to have these long lasting gifts to reminisce with.
Oh, dear… I really am a sentimental old sod! The last stanza of that poem nearly made me cry.
I am my Mother’s garden.
I am her legacy-
And I hope today she feels the love
reflected back from me.
So many plants in my garden are “legacy plants” from the garden I grew up in, and I know my mother delights in sharing her plants with me – and her experience. It gives her a breathing space from being the dutiful and loving wife of my dad who is dying from cancer. She needs that space, and I hope I can give it to her, even from afar, by continuing to care for my own garden and share my experiences with her.
(Anyway, I needed a good cry. Today is Father’s Day in Denmark, so it seems suitable to read your Mother’s Day post today; after all, the best thing I can do for my father is to care for my mother right now; she is his everyday tower of strength, but she needs the rest of us to prop her up so she can do that. She is no rock, but rather a sandcastle that is constantly in danger of being washed away by the waves of my dad’s illness and the emotional hardship it brings, but still she stands. And I hope today – like every day – she feels the love reflected back from me.)
I’m glad you could relate to the poem. Caring for a garden full of plants (especially ones that were given to us) is so all-encompassing. The sight, smell, touch, and memories all serve some beautiful purpose I think. Best wishes to you and your loved ones. Thanks for commenting.