We were quite a team. I had lower back pain and couldn't bend over. Mom had a sore hip and ankle and couldn't get around as well as usual. We played on our strengths as we planted, deadheaded, watered, weeded, and moved plants.
Every time I drive up to my childhood home I am in awe of the beauty Mom has created in the front of the house. Her plants are lush and healthy. Everything grows twice as tall at her house.
Then when I move to the back it is the same thing. We gave her this rose as a small plant a few years ago. Amazing how much it has grown.
I never get tired of the wide sky, sunlit morning, fresh air, and the scent of flowers.
You have an amazing bonding moment with your mother, Christy. This is usually what makes a beautiful garden or any form or artistry, for that matter; the attachment and the value given by the person to that particular art. I always say, horticulture is an art, and the garden is the artist's very own canvas.
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