The Garden March 12, 2019

The Garden

      I carefully fold up the order for plants and garden supplies along with the check I helped write out. Slipping it carefully inside the envelope I lick it and seal it. You comment as I write out our return address and then I find a stamp of a child playing in a snowbank and carefully place it on the corner of the envelope. It is still winter. I climbed over an icy snowbank and then walked on ice to get to see you here in the hospital.

Yes it is still winter and despite set backs and ambulance rides and tubes and blood transfusions you have been ardently and adamantly planning this years garden. 464 dollars (including tax and shipping)

of goodness will come to the address I wrote so carefully in the upper left hand corner of that envelope sent to Gurneys. 

        Outside it is raining, but a few days ago we had snow and before that more snow and before that deep cold. It has been an endless winter and you've had so many medical problems. Once again we are back in the same room in the same unit. Kind nurses watch over you even when you are grumpy. And I come to see you

every day...even when the weather is bad. Yes, it is an endless winter. 

Albertine your nurse

So I sealed the envelope full of orders for packets of seeds and plum trees and a large container that will hold the cherry tree. You are still on oxygen at level 4 and even going to the bathroom tires you. But we look past all this to spring and every number I write down is like a sacrament of hope that you will be well enough to plant this garden with me..once the snows have melted..once the grass is green...once you are stronger again...once we have left the winter far behind. I hold onto you and write each number carefully in the square provided. Each number a tiny hope, like a tiny seed to plant.

The yard will be full of flowers, trees and plants. We planned it out on paper where everything will go. The old church pew will be dismantled...that is where the asparagus will go. And you've marked where the fruit trees will be placed. The boulevard will be full of flowers and by the Free Library there will be a lilac bush that those stopping to get books can enjoy.

    The snow will melt. I will hold onto you as we plant these hopes together.