Yesterday while planting my zinnias and tomato plants, my husband gathered seeds from dried
stalks taken from my father’s last zinnia bed.
I planted those seeds yesterday, and truth be told, afterwards all I wanted to do was lie down in the middle
of our backyard and cry.
What will I do if they don’t grow?
In years past, my father and I had lots of conversations standing at my zinnia beds.
In those gardening conversations, he always began his advice by clearing his throat and saying,
”Sister, you might want to…”
And then I would look him in the eye and smile like I knew what I was doing, and he would laugh.
Everywhere I looked yesterday was a place he had stood and given me gardening advice.
As much as I teased him, I listened to every word.
This is not a sad tale, but rather a tale that feels sad.
That makes perfect sense to me.
And besides, there is work to do in the garden.
So I best get to it.