Putting Down Roots : Memory Gardens
Spiraea Prunifolia, originally uploaded by Phae.
I think it was my friend Valerie who first put the idea in my mind to plant living tributes to loved ones lost. She had planted a lovely garden in honor of her grandmother, which she showed me shortly after my Grandma Marie had passed. At the time I was living in a rental, but I promised myself that one day, when I had my own land to plant- a forever home, I’d create forever tributes.
Seven months ago we moved into our very own home. Within weeks our very first tree- an almond, was planted in memory of my Grandpa Dee Huff. He was an almond & peach farmer locally for several decades. There was no question in my mind that I would ever eat an almond from this tree without thinking of the very special memories I have of him.
The planting was not without fanfare. The entire family gathered and said a prayer for Grandpa. We talked about who he was in life, how he was related to our children who may not remember him, and promised that we would care for his tree and enjoy it’s bounty in his name always. Each of us helped to plant the tree; digging, mulching, planting and watering it together. And a precedence was set.
There have been five more little ceremonies since: we planted a peach tree for Grandma Joyce. An apricot tree for Grandpa John. A cherry tree for Grandma Clara. Blackberries and raspberries for Grandma Marie. And most recently, this Spiraea Prunifolia in memory of my dear childhood friend Amber.
There is yet a short list of trees and shrubs and gardens planned in memory of others who have touched our lives and moved on. What started as an idea has become a tradition, and a way for us to connect in a meaningful way with our departed friends and family. For us to remember who we are and where we came from, and the people who have changed us and cared for us along our own journeys.
I don’t typically mourn loved ones lost the way others might. I look at the bright side. They have transitioned, their energy now lives in the flora, fauna and elements all around. I tend to see my forebears in the wind, the clouds, the waterways, the fire. I feel their presence in my life- they live on in our hearts and memories, they watch over us. And now, I feel that they have a place on our property to continue gifting our family with their eternal light and love. And we, having been left behind, have a place to connect- we’ve put down roots, steeped in memory and meaning.
There has been some discussion and brainstorming as to how to mark each plant so that we never forget whom they memorialize. Plaques? Wind chimes? Stakes or stones? Whatever we decide, we’ll make the markers ourselves and place them together.
Besides the inherent beauty of our living memorials, I’ve found a true beauty in the peace each have brought me spiritually. I feel a quiet and a connection to nature and to my loved ones each time I stop to check on our plantings. I have no doubt that each fruit, each clipping- each meal will bring me that much more joy.
My favorite thing about our living memorials is the opportunity it gives me to discuss our relatives & histories with the children. I have made promises to grandparents, many made to those at death’s door, that I would tell the kids they were loved, that they would know their grandparents. I’ve not found many opportunities since to do as I’d promised, until we began this newest of family traditions. In just this short time there has been so much knowledge I’ve been able to share already, and I know there will be many future discussions during which my children will come to truly know those who gave them life. Feeling connected to our past is a rich reward for putting down roots, I think.
I hope you will find as much joy in gardening, in the act of remembering, as I do. We can’t control what losses we will experience, we all die. But we can pour our loss into something positive, we can give each goodbye meaning. That is what I choose to do. I may not cry, but I will grow a plant for you and we will remember.
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