Love Grows Wherever He Goes

"Roses are red, violets are blue...." Pretty simple observation. But some of the most simple things are the prettiest.

When I was growing up, my family had a garden. It was a lovely garden. It wasn't something you'd see gracing the cover of "Better Homes and Gardens", but it was beautiful. We grew roses, peonies, hydrangea bushes, and had a vegetable garden with cucumbers, tomatoes, and peppers. I remember watching my dad watering, weeding, and taking care of the lawn on every Sunday and Wednesday from May-September. My mom and I would go to the nursery every spring to pick out what we'd be growing that summer. I remember how many hours would be put into the maintenance and care of that garden and how many memories were made in the process.

After my mom died in 2002, it was like the garden did too. I was too busy working and going to college. Dad was too grief stricken, so he stopped watering, mowing, and weeding. Ivy ran amock like an insane dictator over my fences and garage. The flowers all wilted and died. The lawn turned brown and came just about up to my knees. The bushes in the front and back had overgrown themselves and started to take over the yards. It started to look like my home had been abandoned, and it nearly broke my heart to look outside.

One day, while going through old photographs, I found an picture of my garden from 10 years ago. I showed it to my boyfriend and said this is the way things really were before mom died. He saw how unhappy I was looking at my property and asked if it'd be alright if he could try to make it the way it once was.