Last weekend the kids and I started our garden. We inherited two raised garden beds on the south end side of our lot next to our two apple trees. As Jack and I were planting the kale seeds, he commented: "isn't it amazing how tiny the seeds are for what they grow into?" Yes, it was the perfect opportunity to speak in metaphor, but I just let the moment soak in for both of us.If I was on Facebook, I would have posted the pictures below and written something like "spring time is near." This comment, of course, belies the full reality of gardening with a three year old. Jack and I essentially worked around Reese, planting the pepper, pumpkin, cucumber and squash seeds for growing inside AND planting our lettuce, peas, carrots, kale, arugula and lettuce in the raised gardens. If it wasn't for a handful of wormy distractions, the planting would have been even more challenging. As it was, when someone walked by -- AND many people did as our sidewalk is a main thoroughfare of pedestrians walking up to the junction -- this is part of what they heard:
Jack: REESE! Don't walk there!! I just raked the soil.
Reese: Ignores Jack and stomps harder on the other end of the soil bed.
Laura: Reese, sweetie, please don't walk in the beds; here, help us get the dirt ready.
Reese: WORMY!!
Jack: "REESE!! Don't walk there!! You're pushing the dirt together
Laura: Reese, love, please get out of the garden and see if wormy wants to play in the grass.
Reese: Ignores me.
Laura: Reese, get out of the garden.
Reese: AH! Where did wormy go?!! (throws handfuls of dirt out of the garden, looking for a worm desperate to escape)
Laura: REESE! Get out of the garden!! NOW!
Laura (suddenly calm, to passerby): Hello, good afternoon.
Only two worms died on the sidewalk that morning due to exposure. I am grateful for their sacrifice.
Today had as much, if not more, sun than the pictures from planting last weekend. I walked through the rock garden on the north side of campus this afternoon, trying to figure out why I wasn't enjoying the weather more. I just began to recognize the impending, somewhat crushing darkness when I remembered that today is the 17th month anniversary of Ed's death. The other night, Jack sat on his bed staring at the October 4, 2011 Sounders US Open Cup soccer poster (the game he went to with his Uncle and his dad four days before Ed died). I didn't realize what he was doing until the tears were streaming down his face when I tucked him in. He said he was missing daddy. I chalked it up to random grief. But, this afternoon--I realized-- the whole week has been leading us to this anniversary. It's still remarkable to me that the body remembers before the mind. It's been a while since I've had such a visceral reminder, but, that is mostly because the last few months have had plenty of distractions. Still, I thought the monthly reminders were over- I'm ready to move to six months or year. Maybe that happens at 18 months. In the meantime, we'll marvel at those tiny seeds and see what they grown into.