When we bought our house, Paul and I really looked forward to tending to the garden. With a lot of nearly 10,000 square feet, we knew it would be a lot of work, but we didn’t care. That first spring and summer we were out almost every weekend and really made it beautiful.
Last spring, we drew up plans for some major garden projects in the back yard and spent some time in the front yard once the snow melted away. The week before Paul died, we spent a long (and enjoyable) day raking and weeding and mowing before enjoying a well-deserved picnic lunch under the cedar trees. The next weekend we planned more work. But God had plans for Paul that we were unaware of.
All last year, various neighbors kept the yard mowed for me. A couple came by to trim some trees, another couple came by to help remove piles of leafs. And I was ever-so-grateful. This year, I know that it’s time I get back out into the yard and start taking care of it myself. And I’ve been planning to do that for the last two weeks, only I got sick.
As I drove home this evening, I dreaded the thought of having to mow the lawn. As I rounded the corner of my street, I decided that (despite doctor’s rest orders) I should just suck it up and mow at least part of the thing tonight. But as I pulled into my drive, I saw that someone else already came by on their riding mower. I don’t know which wonderful neighbor to thank, but I’ll tell you what, it’s totally made my day!
I am still dreading the day I finally make it out to do work in the garden because I know it will just remind me that Paul isn’t there to help, but I’m kind of looking forward to getting my hands dirty. Maybe I’ll start slow by weeding the flower beds later this week. Then at least I won’t feel too guilty for picking some of the flowers to bring into the house.
Right! The main point of this entry is to exclaim:
I have amazingly wonderful neighbors and am very lucky to have them!