A Little Sunshine

It’s the fourth year I’ve done it. The weather seems to know to cooperate. But this year so did my favorite landscaper, JR, who called and offered an unscheduled clean up the day before. So the weather was not only perfect, but the yard was looking ripe for working in. The weather and the yard were ready to honor my friend who helped add sunshine to my life when things were not so bright.

Five years ago I asked my friend Scott to help me turn my yard from grass to garden, from patches of green to an array of squash, tomatoes, eggplant, basil, rosemary, and okra…oh, the okra. That first year, I needed a ladder to reach the half moon tender vegetables that Scott insisted were great raw. He was right. I hardly ever cook okra now. I just pull it off and eat it. Scott was right about many things, like how you have to respect the plants and the soil they live in, respect the worms in the ground and the bees that buzz above. He respected patients and respected hard work. Two things I sometimes forget when I head into the garden and want to see my seeds propagating or my young plants growing faster.

But Scott reminds me, even though it has been almost four years since his passing, that life isn’t about instant resolve. It’s not about fast fruition. It is about steady work and steady patients. And, it’s about being okay if that resolve and that fruition never come to fully pass.

Today I did what I do every third of April for the last four years. I plant sunflowers in memory of my friend Scott. As I pat the soil I talk to him and ask him if I’m doing it right, if I’ve spaced the seeds far enough and if I’ve put them in the right spot for the most sun. And I promise Scott—and myself—to be patient and to keep working. I know that not all the seeds will bloom and perhaps the okra will not grow as tall. Yet, by doing this I not only remember my friend but I remind myself that with patients and steady work, I am capable of bringing a little sunshine into the world.

Happy Birthday Scott.