I have always struggled with not having a gravestone or plaque even for either of my parents – a place for ‘grief rituals’ which I learnt in a bereavement ‘workshop’ soon after mum died could be important ..... (but at mum’s behest it wasn’t meant to be).
I glanced out today at the garden (a very humble affair) and noticed the lilac tree was about to blossom ...... with a smile, I remembered mum giving that to us .... we had downsized to this house about 12 years ago – me giving up work to move closer to ‘home’ so that I could help in looking after my dad .... money was tight .... very tight ... we had downsized in the ‘boom and bust’ era ... and went bust – and faced with me not earning a salary they were scary times ... but certain we were doing the right thing .... House was modest but more than ample ... garden was a nightmare ..... but with a toddler who needed to play ‘throw and catch’ or kick a football sorting out the jungle of a garden was priority.
Mum and dad didn’t have riches to bestow ... but I recall they helped us out paying for a small patch of land to be recovered from some concrete ridden overgrown wilderness .... and soon we had a little lawn for son to play out on .... couldn’t afford to do much else ..... New borders created lay pretty empty for a long time ....
The lilac tree was a pot plant – not doing very well on mum’s patio .... ‘Stick it in a border and see how it goes’, she said!
Today, that lilac tree stands eight foot tall and is full of blossom .....other cuttings given to us by friends of so many different plants (sorry, no gardener) fill the borders to overflowing ... the old flat iron I couldn’t part with but didn’t know what to do with – bought by dad decades ago from the Flat Iron Market in Salford (not named because it sold flat irons!) has become a perch for our resident robin .... the Britannia table which holds so much history since dad salvaged it from the old ‘coaching house’ pub that was the ‘local’ is now a bird table (after several other reincarnations) ...... and pots full of tulips are bursting into life ..... (Dad hated tulips so mum would buy them to ‘wind dad up’ ... only dad loved tulips really – he just said it to ‘wind mum up’ when she bought them!)
I realised today, my little back garden is full of personal history ... much of it in a living and sustainable way - and happy memories from long before we ever moved here, even, have moved here with us ..... unwittingly, I have a special place to remember, and to smile as well as cry – and literally in my own back yard.
God bless, mum and dad, x
I glanced out today at the garden (a very humble affair) and noticed the lilac tree was about to blossom ...... with a smile, I remembered mum giving that to us .... we had downsized to this house about 12 years ago – me giving up work to move closer to ‘home’ so that I could help in looking after my dad .... money was tight .... very tight ... we had downsized in the ‘boom and bust’ era ... and went bust – and faced with me not earning a salary they were scary times ... but certain we were doing the right thing .... House was modest but more than ample ... garden was a nightmare ..... but with a toddler who needed to play ‘throw and catch’ or kick a football sorting out the jungle of a garden was priority.
Mum and dad didn’t have riches to bestow ... but I recall they helped us out paying for a small patch of land to be recovered from some concrete ridden overgrown wilderness .... and soon we had a little lawn for son to play out on .... couldn’t afford to do much else ..... New borders created lay pretty empty for a long time ....
The lilac tree was a pot plant – not doing very well on mum’s patio .... ‘Stick it in a border and see how it goes’, she said!
Today, that lilac tree stands eight foot tall and is full of blossom .....other cuttings given to us by friends of so many different plants (sorry, no gardener) fill the borders to overflowing ... the old flat iron I couldn’t part with but didn’t know what to do with – bought by dad decades ago from the Flat Iron Market in Salford (not named because it sold flat irons!) has become a perch for our resident robin .... the Britannia table which holds so much history since dad salvaged it from the old ‘coaching house’ pub that was the ‘local’ is now a bird table (after several other reincarnations) ...... and pots full of tulips are bursting into life ..... (Dad hated tulips so mum would buy them to ‘wind dad up’ ... only dad loved tulips really – he just said it to ‘wind mum up’ when she bought them!)
I realised today, my little back garden is full of personal history ... much of it in a living and sustainable way - and happy memories from long before we ever moved here, even, have moved here with us ..... unwittingly, I have a special place to remember, and to smile as well as cry – and literally in my own back yard.
God bless, mum and dad, x