Memories of Mom’s Garden and Her Never-ending Love

Mom’s garden, sown with love…

Her love reminds me of a garden; ever lovely, growing, and alive. Born and raised in New York City, the feisty redhead sprang into action the day tulips and daffodils popped their heads up after a long winter’s slumber. Welcoming patches of color bordered sidewalks along our street. The hard-as-a-rock soil didn’t deter her. She jumped at the first opportunity to plant a few fragrant roses and daisies before we waved goodbye to the city and said hello to Summer in the Catskills Mountains. So many precious stories linger in my heart and mind, now rooted deep in my soul, like the memories of my mom’s garden and her never-ending love.

Reminiscences and tall tales

My mother loved pink and white begonias, orange speckled tiger lilies, petunias, and the irresistible multicolored pansy. I loved flowers and everything summer—like climbing trees, swimming in frigid waterfall pools, building forts in the woods, rock collecting, or riding friends on my bicycle handlebars or back fender. Reminisces and tall tales mingle and swirl around in my head daily. They greet me every morning . . . like the Hollyhocks and Foxgloves in my mother’s garden.

With soft hands that denied she’d spent more than a minute digging in the dirt, she worked her magic. Her slender fingers; the perfect backdrop for nail polish or diamond rings. My sister and I helped my dad gather river rocks from a nearby stream to outline several flowerbeds for my mother’s garden. She claimed not to be creative but managed to create a masterpiece plot filled with pastel patches of what I could only describe as heaven on earth.

Sowing memories without end

Warm winds blew. Lavender roses, blue snowball hydrangeas, and yellow sunflowers lifted their heads and smiled at the sun. As the weather changed, my mother called on my sister and me to help with seasonal chores. We’d deadhead petunias, prune roses, or rake vast piles of leaves. Dad and my ninety-something-year-old ancient-looking Italian grandpa tended the 12X12 vegetable garden teeming with beefsteak tomatoes, eggplant, cucumbers, and zucchini. While I always say mom introduced me to the love of gardening—it was a way of life for my entire family. Together, we created random-sized patches of paradise. Those precious moments shaped me into the garden girl I am today.

Give her the fruit of her hands, and let her works praise her in the gates.

Proverbs 31:31 (ESV)

Her never-ending to-dos

My mother’s to-do list must have been a mile long. She filled her life with cooking, cleaning, sewing, and things to do for everyone except herself most of the time. Although she didn’t play with my pet turtle, Tommy, or my Barbie dolls, she shared the innermost parts of a mother’s soul while we dug in the dirt together. One day, while on her knees, I watched her wipe tears from her eyes. “They help the flowers grow,” she said. And I believed her. Maybe that was her way of preparing me for the day I held her hand for the last time. “I will never stop loving you,” she said before taking her last breath.

Evergreen

My husband and I planted an evergreen in memory of mom’s never-ending love. To this day, I still see her sweet smile. Aromas of Sunday dinners, her sweet perfume, and the most beautiful garden ever always fill my heart with joy.

“Remember her life when you see a flower. All the colors she showed bloomed into unconditional love, leaving those she touched, priceless memories of endless summer.”

Joann Claypoole (Excerpt from “Remember Her Life” poem 4/7/2009)

Seeds of eternal purpose

I want to be thankful for yesterday’s memories—That means all the scabby scars and scrapes too. Today, with a humble heart, I hope to share about God’s gift of grace and how He can deliver us from being overwhelmed with our unending to-do lists. Without God’s unconditional love, I wouldn’t stand in confidence. As Mother’s Day celebrations fade from our thoughts, may the best memories of our moms always flood our minds.

“There’s no way to be a perfect mother and a million ways to be a good one.”

Jill Churchill

Dear moms,

Imagine a day with no more tears, no more pain, and no more fears. I live in the hope to see Jesus face to face. Some days it’s harder than others to see the beauty of this miraculous gift we call life. While I miss my parents and other loved ones, memories of my mom’s garden and her never-ending love always make me smile. I hope my children can say the same about me someday.

Have you ever let your mommy mind stop and look at life in a child-like way? Can you imagine a life without worry? Even if you despise the outdoors or gardening isn’t for you, there are many things you can do with the kiddos to bring you joy, rest, and peace. My sons always loved our storytime. I love how they’ve passed that passion on to their children.

Although it might be tough to let the everyday hassles go, we should give it a try. Until that last moment in time, when we have to say goodbye, we can speak life into our families, sow seeds of encouragement in our children’s hearts, and trust and believe there will be better things to come. Wishing you many years of blessings together. ~ JC

I’d love to hear your thoughts…

Drop a line or two here in the Inspire A Fire comments section below this post. You can read all my IAF stories, or click specific story links within this post, and don’t forget to check out my Dreamdove’s Flights of Fancy blog. I’ll see you on FB, Instagram, Twitter, or Pinterest too!

*Special thanks for free images from Pixabay: Feature image by Jill Wellington, #1 image by S. Hermann & F. Richter (pixel2013) #2 image by alteredego,  #3 image by Pezibear.