Revisiting the past is tricky business because one can't return to their past without leaving part of themselves behind and we can't return home without bringing part of our past back with us.
It is necessary to make the trip home almost every weekend to finalize mom's affairs. In the beginning, the memories were overwhelming and the emotional impact was taking it's toll as I closed the door on my childhood one item at a time. As we worked through the process, I eventually began to gain control over the emotional part of this journey and this allowed me to keep my focus on the work that needed to be done.
My sister and I both have birthdays in the first week of April and, since this was our birthday weekend, we would make this a quick trip just to take care of a few items of business and return home by early afternoon. The hills were covered with flowers which evoked memories of the many trips with my parents through these mountains in the Spring. My mother loves to garden and I still envy her green thumb because it seemed that she could just put anything in the ground and in a few weeks she had a beautiful plant. As we pulled in front of her house, the first thing I saw were the Purple Bearded Iris and the lilac blooms on her Lilac Bush. All of my emotional control melted for a moment because, as long as I can remember, mom always had a garden which included the Purple Bearded Iris, lilacs, and roses. I loved the spring when her flowers were beginning to bloom but I haven't seen her garden in springtime for many years. Walking up to the doorway I saw fennel beginning to grow and the fig tree that she nurtured from a twig years ago was bearing it's small flowers. Since no one is watering the plants I was amazed that the plants were thriving. The garden was coming back to life on it's own. It was as though the garden refused to give up on her, blooming in spite of everything...just waiting for her to return home and nurture them.
We are at the house so often that we are familiar faces in the neighborhood now and we have a stream of people stopping by to talk, offer to help, or to ask after my mother. I don't know if it was mom's garden or the small town camaraderie but it was more difficult to leave this time so we ended up leaving as the sun was setting behind the mountains. Mom's garden, the small town camaraderie, and the drive through these familiar mountains on my birthday weekend broke down all of the walls of emotional detachment that I have worked so hard to keep erected. At one point my sister and I shared a look of understanding and I realized that my sister is the only other person on this earth who can truly share these moments with me. I was glad that she was there.
I left home more than thirty years ago and my life bears little resemblance to the world I grew up in. The relationship with my mother has always been strained and after my father passed away I became even farther removed but, when I saw mom's garden coming to life, I felt as though I had rediscovered a part of myself amongst her Purple Irises and Lilacs. It felt as if a part of me has been laying dormant, patiently waiting in that garden for many years. It was the sight of mom's flowers which helped that part of me begin to bloom again. I had always hoped for a closer relationship with my mother but she and I were never able to achieve that. Now it is too late. A love of flowers was one of the few things that she and I had in common so seeing her garden in bloom brought back a wave of good memories.
As my childhood home is dismantled and sold, one piece at a time, I am saddened as I realize that this is the last time I will see my mother's garden. I wish that I could pick up the garden and take it with me. Yet I feel as though a part of me will always be in that garden, or sitting in front of the window upstairs watching the mountains in the distance. Seeing her favorite flowers bloom, just as they have bloomed every spring for more than forty years, helped me understand that my home has always been in my heart waiting patiently for the sight of lilacs and irises to help the memories blossom and grow again. I found a part of myself that was lost in that garden but I also left a piece of myself behind, nestled amongst mom's flowers.
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