Today is 2 years and 1 month since Catherine passed on.
When she was living in Dudley, we used to drive down the A roads to visit her. It was shorter than the motorway and a more pleasant trip. Along this route we would pass an outstanding garden centre called Dobbies, and it became our tradition to stop in, if it was still open by the time we drove home. At this point we'd just moved into our new home and had an empty garden to fill. So we'd scour the bargain section for redeemable plants. We hardly ever spent very much, sometimes just pennies really. Some of the plants didn't survive and couldn't be resuscitated despite my best efforts, but others thrived. The annuals have long since passed away, but we still have a hedge and various plants growing from that time.
Today we went to the Dudley area again for the steering group for the Triangle of Care project, which I'll write about another time or you can Google.
So on the way back, you can guess where we stopped. I was a lot more extravagant in my plant buying than I used to be, but we still got some bargains that I hope will bear fruit -- literally, strawberries and beans to be precise. I bought 3 lily plants in Catherine's memory--this is the third year... They are hardy so I hope they'll survive a long time. I think I'll make a Catherine corner in the garden, and another plot for Pax. Lilies are for Catherine and we have a stone dove for a centrepiece for Pax. Hopefully pictures will follow, eventually. Catherine already has a pot of lilies at her grave.
Gardening has probably been the single-most helpful activity for the past 2 years. Watching things grow, waiting almost breathlessly to see what's survived the winter, listening to the birds and watching as they flit around, listening to the wind (thank God for the summerhouse!), watching as the sky changes colour, light blue to dark grey in moments, watching the miraculous springing to life at spring--some days I could almost see the ornamental grass spring up in my sight!; watching the golden daffodils unfold then glow as bright golden trumpets, then gradually fade to be replaced by deep red goblets that are tulips, watching bees visit the white blossom of our young cherry tree, hoping this year it will produce more than the half dozen cherries of 2012, waiting to see if some unfamiliar green shoots are growing into a welcome plant or a weed... There’s so much going on, no wonder I can spend so much time staring at the garden, never mind about the actual time spent gardening.
Having the luxury of time to sit and watch is exactly that, a luxury. I am fortunate in that regard. I am glad to say "thank you Jesus" for the time, and the garden to watch, of course.
I was studying the little willow tree we planted the first year, and thinking we probably planted it a bit too close to the house. But it will take many years before it's too big to be a problem. By that time, I expect it won't be my problem, but I'll be with my children.
Sitting here (summerhouse, where else?), it’s quite easy to see the cycle of life, the seasons of growth, fruitfulness, death and rebirth. The unexpected beauty of a flower, the sadness as it's short life ends, but the knowledge that if it's a perennial, it will grow again. Are we perennials? That's the hope of Christianity, isn't it. And with that thought, I'll leave you with a poem I wrote awhile ago.
To Catherine...
I used to like the scent of lilies
And they were your favourite blooms;
We bought them to adorn your casket
Perfume filled the room.
Each lily now is a teardrop
Leaving my heart, entering the soil
For that’s where they laid my daughter
Yes you, my precious girl.
Please tell me if you can
For then I’d know that you still live
Though how I do not understand.
If you can smell the lilies
Then their fragrance, soft and sweet
Will no longer be a curse upon me
But a promise we’ll one day meet.
When she was living in Dudley, we used to drive down the A roads to visit her. It was shorter than the motorway and a more pleasant trip. Along this route we would pass an outstanding garden centre called Dobbies, and it became our tradition to stop in, if it was still open by the time we drove home. At this point we'd just moved into our new home and had an empty garden to fill. So we'd scour the bargain section for redeemable plants. We hardly ever spent very much, sometimes just pennies really. Some of the plants didn't survive and couldn't be resuscitated despite my best efforts, but others thrived. The annuals have long since passed away, but we still have a hedge and various plants growing from that time.
Today we went to the Dudley area again for the steering group for the Triangle of Care project, which I'll write about another time or you can Google.
So on the way back, you can guess where we stopped. I was a lot more extravagant in my plant buying than I used to be, but we still got some bargains that I hope will bear fruit -- literally, strawberries and beans to be precise. I bought 3 lily plants in Catherine's memory--this is the third year... They are hardy so I hope they'll survive a long time. I think I'll make a Catherine corner in the garden, and another plot for Pax. Lilies are for Catherine and we have a stone dove for a centrepiece for Pax. Hopefully pictures will follow, eventually. Catherine already has a pot of lilies at her grave.
Gardening has probably been the single-most helpful activity for the past 2 years. Watching things grow, waiting almost breathlessly to see what's survived the winter, listening to the birds and watching as they flit around, listening to the wind (thank God for the summerhouse!), watching as the sky changes colour, light blue to dark grey in moments, watching the miraculous springing to life at spring--some days I could almost see the ornamental grass spring up in my sight!; watching the golden daffodils unfold then glow as bright golden trumpets, then gradually fade to be replaced by deep red goblets that are tulips, watching bees visit the white blossom of our young cherry tree, hoping this year it will produce more than the half dozen cherries of 2012, waiting to see if some unfamiliar green shoots are growing into a welcome plant or a weed... There’s so much going on, no wonder I can spend so much time staring at the garden, never mind about the actual time spent gardening.
Having the luxury of time to sit and watch is exactly that, a luxury. I am fortunate in that regard. I am glad to say "thank you Jesus" for the time, and the garden to watch, of course.
I was studying the little willow tree we planted the first year, and thinking we probably planted it a bit too close to the house. But it will take many years before it's too big to be a problem. By that time, I expect it won't be my problem, but I'll be with my children.
Sitting here (summerhouse, where else?), it’s quite easy to see the cycle of life, the seasons of growth, fruitfulness, death and rebirth. The unexpected beauty of a flower, the sadness as it's short life ends, but the knowledge that if it's a perennial, it will grow again. Are we perennials? That's the hope of Christianity, isn't it. And with that thought, I'll leave you with a poem I wrote awhile ago.
To Catherine...
I used to like the scent of lilies
And they were your favourite blooms;
We bought them to adorn your casket
Perfume filled the room.
Each lily now is a teardrop
Leaving my heart, entering the soil
For that’s where they laid my daughter
Yes you, my precious girl.
Please tell me if you can
For then I’d know that you still live
Though how I do not understand.
If you can smell the lilies
Then their fragrance, soft and sweet
Will no longer be a curse upon me
But a promise we’ll one day meet.
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| One of our plants from Dobbies. I don't know what this is called. It's a perennial and spreads like crazy! |
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| Our summerhouse, my garden haven |
Just beautiful... Thank you...I can't hold back the tears... and can't help but wonder if our girls met on the other side and can smell the lilies... (Clotilde Volpe)
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