The weather is finally warming up which means long hours of weeding and planting. I plant all kinds of flowers and a few veggies. My world is colored in pink, purple, yellow and green. Yesterday I was standing at my table outside planting a few hanging baskets. I was humming as I often do when I am in my own little world so peaceful and content. A red bird joined me in my song. There he sat perched on a branch of the tree that I was standing under. He was singing his song. I couldn't help but smile and thank God for this day. For this moment. I stood in total awe as I looked around and saw with eyes of graditude the beauty of nature. My yard is like my secret garden. I have put long loving hours creating what I feel is beautiul, peaceful and tranquil. Sometimes a deer will join me, or a squirrel, a bunny or like today a bird. God uses my hands to help create his beautiful world.
My dad loved working in the yard. He grew beautiful roses in our backyard and all kinds of vegetables in his gardens. It is when I work in my yard that I feel close to him. As I dig in the earth, add new soil and plant a petunia, germanium or a roses bush. It's as if his hands our covering mine...guiding me. I can see him as if he is kneeling beside me...smiling. He had such a big smile...just like I do. It's like he and I are bonded. Father and daughter. I belong to him at that moment. I am all grown up now. A woman. I am older now than the years he lived but when I am in my gardens I am that child once again. I am his child..his daughter. I am Buddy's little girl. I am so thankful that he comes to spend time with me here. He knew where to meet me. Was I born with this love or did he give it to me as a gift? Like a going away present. It doesn't matter because I know my love for flowers comes from him. My desire to create beauty comes from him. It is his gift to me. I was young when my dad died, only fifteen. I didn't know him well. I only knew what I saw. I saw good and I saw bad. There is no other way to put it. It just was. My sister and brother where given things that belonged to him, a pipe, a flag, a clock and some clothing. I didn't get things. I was to young at the time to know or even to say I want this or that. It makes me sad sometimes. That I don't have something that I can hold that came from him. Something that physically makes his life real to me. That's all forgotten when I am in my garden. The material gifts far from my mind. I bask in his love for nature. I unwrap the greatest present I could ever need or want from him and that is to create beauty from simple dirt and a handful of tiny seeds. I see his smile and I hear his voice gently say to me "It looks beautiful". "Daddy is so proud of his little girl."
