Little things…

One of the things I have especially missed this last year, has been not being able to ask my dad for advice in the garden (amongst other things). Looking back I’ve gone from thinking to myself "I must just call and ask him about this" to now realising straight away that this is no longer possible and just guessing what to do and getting on with it, but not without first giving him a thought each time.

Anyone who knew my father (especially since his retirement) would have know how he was a keen gardener. I especially remember how, when we lived in a little village called Hook, just outside Swindon and Wootton Bassett, he would enter the local flower competitions and regularly come home with a haul of rosettes, especially, as I remember, for his Dahlia and Sweet Peas.

I try my best, but I really don’t know what I’m doing and in some cases end up buying the plants I’ve tried to grow from seed at some garden center or other at some extortionate price. He’s probably turning in his grave as I do this, but it’s his fault since I can’t ask anymore 😉

I guess I’m writing about this now as a couple of really small and insignificant events have happened over the last couple of days.

Firstly, I visited him in the cemetery yesterday, what with it being my last day of freedom before starting work on Monday. Whilst there I removed a dead pot plat somebody had left at the grave (since a similar plant was also on the grave of my grandparents & uncle I assume it was left by one of my other uncles), but kept the pot thinking to myself "That’ll come in useful". When relaying the days events to my mum she casually commented how Dad would do the same thing, which I laughed about at the time.

Earlier today I was also sorting out some stuff in the shed and garage when I came across a box I had obviously taken when sorting out his stuff with my brothers. The box was full of  packets of seeds, some of which were unlabelled (typical of my father – he may recognise the seeds but to me it’s going to be a surprise). I’d forgotten I had this, and since I was in the middle of doing some stuff in the garden it just felt a little poignant.

Time will tell if I ever manage to grow anything from this collection, but I intend to try with at least some things, if not this year then next. Taking into consideration my ability and the age of the seeds, I’m not expecting much to germinate, but I’m hoping at least a few things will. It just seems to make the process a little more special if it does.

If I’m honest, what little I try to do in the garden is probably driven by a desire to honor his memory in a small way, so I guess I should put more effort in and appreciate any success I have.

As a colleague of mine once said: "You can get over what has happened, but it never leaves you".