I’ve been a little distracted lately. You see, my son – whom I’ve seen twice in almost four years – has moved back to South Carolina! With all the preparing, I was lucky I had time to tend to my seedlings and garden, nevermind write a blog post. But he arrived a couple days ago! And what I couldn’t wait to show him was my garden.
I gave him a quick tour of my new house, then led him out to my pride and joy. I showed him every bed, every container, every tree – explaining what they were and when they should be ready to harvest. I then picked lettuce and spinach for the evening’s dinner salad and included radishes and carrots I had stored from last harvest, placing it before him with delight.
In my mind, I was hoping the tour of my garden and eating my fresh salad would be a remembrance of our time together in the past when I planted my first garden. Unfortunately, my twenty-one year old son was not as interested in my garden as I had hoped he’d be. His twenty-something indifference was juxtaposed with my memory of him as an excited toddler helping me plant that first garden. However, as he looked over my garden beds and listened to me talk about the types of plants, I looked past his disinterest and clung to the memory of his tiny fingers making holes for the seeds, grinning as he covered the seed with soil. As I explained when we could expect to harvest everything, I smiled in spite of his bored nod because I was remembering his youthful exuberance, daily demanding to know if the seed had grown yet. Still, I wondered, Where is THAT boy of mine?
Of course, it’s been only a couple of days since his return home, so I can’t give up. As the warm weather arrives, and I harvest these crops then plant the spring crops, I’m hoping he will venture out to join me. I’m hoping he will recall his time in the garden as a boy and tap into that child-like joy, once again giving his mother the joy of gardening with her son!