Today would have been Dad’s 77^th birthday.  I believe I’ll miss him and think of him the rest of my life.

Now, to make it clear, I did not inherit my gardening gene from Dad – quite the contrary.  Mom was the gardener; she loved her ‘flars’ (translated from Southern Illinois speak, this means ‘flowers’). About the only thing remotely resembling gardening that Dad did was to grudgingly mow the grass – that is, until my brother and I got big enough to push the mower.

Dad complained bitterly if he had to deviate from a straight line when he mowed, especially if it was because Mom had planted something where he had to mow. Being by nature and nurture a tight wad, Mom would get hold of a tiny sprout of a shrub or tree and plant it when Dad was at work.  Dad – and my brother – seemed to enjoy running over the tiny little tree.  It was a war of wills.

Gardening Gene

Whereas I got the gardening gene, my baby brother never did want anything to do with yard work. He said that when he bought a house, the lawn would be made of concrete painted green, so he’d never have to mow again.  He meant it, too!  Today, he lives in a lovely house with a small yard, mostly consumed by the garage.  My sister-in-law tries to grow a few plants in the tiny space remaining and struggles with deep shade and clay soil.  I hesitate to ask who does the mowing.

As for animals, Dad would tolerate dogs, even buying us a Pomeranian puppy when I was about twelve years old. I knew better than to try to bring in a cat or kitten…Dad hated them.

One of my best memories was when our next door neighbor, Mr. Smith, came over with four baby rabbits in his hands. Mr. Smith had seen the momma rabbit killed by a cat, then had discovered the nest of babies in his flower bed.  He wondered if I could take care of them.

Baby Bunnies

Rather than telling me NO, as I expected he would do, Dad actually built a nice cage for them. Mom helped me make up a baby formula and I bottle fed them until they could eat and then kept them until they were big enough to release.  Taking care of those baby rabbits filled an emptiness in my heart.

Dad died way too young, of cancer. Two years later, Mom died, also of cancer.  That emptiness in my heart will never be filled, but the memories help.

Stay green, good friends