Sunday, July 22, 2012

Zach's Garden: The making of...

It really helped to have the most beautiful helpers!
People that knows me well knows that I'm not a patient person, by any stretch of the imagination! But life has stretched my patience quite a bit; our hopes had been crashed, our hearts have been broken and our pride and sense of entitlement has been shattered in tiny small pieces...

But there is hope and growth in that, Zachary taught me among many other things, not to take anything for granted, and for that I will be forever grateful.

It was our neighbors idea to make a garden in honor of him. It all began when we came back from the funeral home exhausted and brokenhearted, they came to our door and we learned that  their close family in Chicago had lost an infant son to SIDS, about 20 years ago. They wanted to give us a garden for our boy, so we could see that garden grow and thrive just as we would've seen our boy. They also had a book with Texas landscaping, that included plants that could take this merciless heat, and we were told: You guys just choose what you want to do, the spot and we will make it happen.

I just can't believe that we have this amazing people in our lives! And well, they made it happen.

The garden has been up for about two weeks. Yes, and I'm just posting about it now since I have a talent to procrastinate.  Surprisingly our dog Hunter has been pretty gentle and careful with our little garden and hasn't chewed up the flowers or dug any holes yet. But I'm not taking chances, I will get it fenced soon. But who knows what soon means, given that I'm the procrastinator that I'm, so we shall see.



I have a new ritual now, having my morning coffee in the garden and talking to my boy. I also pray, and I talk to my son out loud, even if it sounds crazy. I know that right now he's probably busy pulling Jesus beard and having a blast in heaven, but  I believe that he still hears me. What do you think? Do you think that he can see us down here? I just hope that he likes his little garden. 






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