The Dark Side of Gardening
Not everyone is as into it as I am. And that's ok.
Maybe some of you can relate to this…
I closed up my mom's larger garden and made a smaller one for her to enjoy. I planted a very small butterfly garden for her as well. She spent her summers an hour north of where she lived in a an RV park and really enjoyed it up there. She was sick for about 5 years. She had to be on dialysis and life wasn't great for her. I would come up at least once a month and maintain the gardens and visit with her and show her my love that way. After she died in 2018, the park said not only her trailer but everything else must go as well. That included the butterfly garden. As I dismantled the garden, in the sorrow I felt some relief as park residents accepted the offer of free flowers and dug them out carefully and install them in their own garden to enjoy the beauty.
I admit I've gladly rehomed plants from people moving or those whose loved ones had been the gardener and they couldn't keep up the work. One of my sons recently bought a house and there's a lot of plants he's not wanting so I'll rehome. I have felt honored to be asked to take plants.
I would guess that the person who bought our suburb house has erased much of the gardens I developed over the years and it's ok with me.
I remember a time doing master gardener volunteer hours with my son. We went to Skinner Park in Detroit and with at least 25 other people we planted hundreds of native perennials and filled up a space with beauty. A year later I drove by the area where we had done the plantings and everything had been mowed down. There was no evidence that any work had been done.
I remember how upset the master gardeners at a local farmers market were when they heard the market was considering moving from its current site. They had developed gorgeous perennial beds that they maintained meticulously every year at that site. And what was on everyone's mind was "What will happen with all these gardens?"
This mother's day weekend I learned that my daughter and her fiance would be dismantling the garden we planted in the front (need to find the photos) and replacing with hostas. I remembered her and I venturing to a home and rehoming flowers the moving owner couldn't take with her. Gardening seems to be a way I best show love to others. *gutcheck* It's their home and upkeep is up to them. Maybe they'll let me rescue the plants?
The church where I raised my kids learned that I was a master gardener and the outreach committee asked me if I would like to plant a butterfly garden in an unused corner of the back lot. Of course I jumped at the chance! I created the design, selected the plants and placed them. Our wonderful church secretary and a couple other volunteers made sure everything was watered regularly so they were well established. I had benches made and installed them so people could come out and just rest and contemplate and watch the activity going on in the garden.
On the other side of the fence were various sports fields and people walking dogs and people coming and going to sports events would stop and watch the activity as well. After about a year I was asked if I wanted to expand the garden and I said of course! A community service group removed the sod for me and more digging and more plants happened and the garden expanded. I was able to tend it Sundays and Wednesdays.
Eventually, I had it certified as a monarch waystation. (My suburb garden was also a certified monarch waystation.) My husband and I moved out of the suburbs and into a country setting and my home church was a lot further away. I enlisted some volunteers to help weed. I made some training videos to show them what was the weed and what wasn't.
2020 hit and I only went out there once a month and the master garden group advised that volunteers don’t come out due to the pandemic. No new plantings could happen since there weren’t people to help out and I decided to turn over the upkeep to a professional gardener at the church. This spring I heard that if they couldn't get someone to tend the garden, it may be dismantled. My gut reaction was initially dismay, sorrow, disappointment and discouragement. As I reflect, I realized that it was not just this news hitting me hard but the memories of the other times. The church has since decided to keep and maintain the waystation. Hurray!
I remembered the passage in Ecclesiastes (which is also The Byrds' song "Turn, Turn, Turn")
There is a time for everything, and a season for every activity under the heavens:
a time to be born and a time to die, a time to plant and a time to uproot,
a time to kill and a time to heal,
a time to tear down and a time to build,
a time to weep and a time to laugh,
a time to mourn and a time to dance,
a time to scatter stones and a time to gather them,
a time to embrace and a time to refrain from embracing,
a time to search and a time to give up,
a time to keep and a time to throw away,
a time to tear and a time to mend,
a time to be silent and a time to speak,
a time to love and a time to hate,
a time for war and a time for peace. What do workers gain from their toil? I have seen the burden God has laid on the human race. He has made everything beautiful in its time. He has also set eternity in the human heart; yet no one can fathom what God has done from beginning to end.
Ecclesiastes 3:1-11 NIV