GARDENING WITH MY MOTHERS

– by Terri Pellitteri, Editor- April 2002

“What we have once enjoyed we can never lose. All that we love deeply becomes a part of us.”
– Helen Keller

After the loss of loved ones, it is often useful to create rituals, especially ones that help us remember and honor their presence in our life. I was asked to write this article because I stay connected to the spirit of two important women. I garden with them on Mothers Day.

For years I celebrated Mothers Day by sharing an early morning breakfast or brunch with my, and my partner’s, parents. On this special day, I catered to the likes of my mothers by providing fresh straw- berries, pineapple, warm homemade scones, and morning buns from the original Ovens of Brittany.

After the meal, we would take our traditional walk into my small backyard to explore my spring garden. My mothers (one being a seasoned gardener) would link arms and rave about the colors and foliage of the few bulbs and plants that managed to survive my shady child-filled yard. In looking at this garden, I saw weeds and poorly landscaped plantings. They however, saw beauty and potential.

It’s been 10 years since I’ve been able to walk into that garden on Mothers Day. We no longer live in the same neighborhood, and my mothers are no longer alive. But I do continue to share Mothers Day with these two special women – just as I continue to bring them into my garden.

While other occasions, such as birthdays, anniversaries, holidays, lend themselves to memories and reminiscence, I reserve Mothers Day for a different kind of union. On this day, I invite them to join me; in work, conversation, and in spirit.

As I’m preparing the ground for planting, I consult them with my plans. …Am I blending the right colors together? …Should I move this plant to a shadier location? …How do I grow in my understanding of womanhood? …parenthood? …spirituality? …Where is this path leading me?

Just as I feel the warmth of the sun or passing breeze, I also feel their presence. Whether I’m working in the soil or taking a rest, they are at my side. They extend to me their guidance.

What I find interesting is that, while I continue to see weeds and poorly landscaped plantings, they continue to see beauty and potential. And in that moment, I feel so loved.