Zoë's Garden Part III: Nature and Nurture
Dear Grammy,
I have few memories of you not tending to people around you, specifically me in fact. You have a special gift for making the person you're with feel like the center of your universe. But one of those rare memories I hold is of the times you would be in linen shorts and a sleeveless button down shirt, maybe with a sunhat or scarf on your head, shovel in hand, crouching down amidst azaleas, tending to your garden. I remember a happy, quiet peace about you in the garden.
While I'm very happy for all the new convenience, safety, and simplicity in your new apartment lifestyle, it saddens me whenever I tell you about my yard and you lament no longer having your own to wander about. I wish you could just be here to garden with Sofia and I every day, and that's why I would love to share some photos of it with you. For you, I've specifically picked some photos with Sofia in it, because I know that's what you really love getting to see best.
Our garden is filled with so many beautiful flowers and even some herbs and vegetables that we inherited. Even though I barely did a thing last summer to invest in this ground myself, I'm certainly reaping the benefits now of my predecessors' sweat and toil. So much white, yellow, red, and green springing up everywhere. Sofia and I love discovering something new every day we go out there. We can't get enough.
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| . . . even napping in the garden |
I've never gardened with my daughter alongside me while I work before. I can't tell you how many sweet moments I've spent, lifting my head up while my hands are still in the dirt, catching her quietly investigating the contents of the grass or studying the meaning of the universe through plants. Gardening highlights for me how miraculous nature is, how little I do to aid in life coming forth, and similarly, how small but significant my hand is in Sofia's life too. Many of these plants would have been stifled under debris if I hadn't come through to clear them away, but they are otherwise growing on their own. So too with Sofia?
Well, maybe they could not grow so well completely on their own. I've certainly pulled my fair share of weeds out of these beds, heaping piles in fact. I've pulled unfortunately large amounts of weeds out of Sofia too. She spends half our time outside running around, grabbing huge handfuls of dirt out of my nicely prepared planters. It begins as a little competition between us, I'm turning the soil or filling a pot and she wants to grab my dirt away from me. She snatches it right off my shovel. But this is not meant just to foil my efforts. She runs that dirt quickly over to our garden gnome and gently offers it to his mouth, sometimes finishing off the act by giving him a little kiss on his beard. This process is one I find endearing. I figure I can spare some of my dirt for the sake of her pet. Perhaps she too is trying to nurture something she loves, just like me with my garden, and me with her.
But then, she starts to grab handfuls and shoves them into her mouth, "Dirt!" And just as I begin to chase after her and try to wipe it all out and off, she's grabbing another handful and tossing that on top of her head, rubbing it into her hair and wiping it all over her clothes, "Dirt!" And so I run back and forth between tending my planters and tending my child. And so begins my role as disciplinarian.
Grammy, you were the one I always called whenever I was disciplined and felt mad about it, which was probably whenever I was disciplined. You listened and you let me cry. That's the joy in being the grandparent, right? You get to love on the kids and you don't have to be the disciplinarian anymore. But you were so consistent in telling me over and over that when my parents discipline me and set boundaries for me, it means they love me. And you were right. You could have just played "nice cop" to their "bad cop," but you backed them up 100% of the time and helped me accept the boundaries they set. And believe it or not, probably in part thanks to how you helped me look at things, I look back on my upbringing and feel thankful for my parents' discipline and for the scrapes their boundaries kept me safe from.
Another more literal boundary we've been struggling with is our fence line. Not that we have much fence to speak of. Sofia could easily weasel through that sucker, but she doesn't quite know that yet. She does know that there is a whole new yard, and fields, and woods on the other side of that fence that she can reach through an opening in the middle. For the past couple weeks, she's been darting through that opening to run after blackbirds, dogs, and people on bikes. Several times each day, I chase her down. We get to the fence line, I crouch down, restraining her with my arms all about her, and I have a little talk with her about not leaving the fenced in area without Mommy.
Well for a few days now, she's looked up to see that opening, looked at me, crept near to it, halted, and then run back to me, grabbing my hand and dragging me to and through it. I can't believe it. My discipline worked. She didn't decide to resent and hate me forever, she works within my rule and we have so much more fun now. I'm so glad you taught me that discipline done well is love, Grammy. Of course, it remains to see how well this will work out about 12 years from now . . .
I think the new growth finally popping up out of these blankets of dirt give me a visual hint about the fruit of my nurture - with labor and patience, growth can come through in a few spots. And maybe, through time we're spending out in the garden together, Sofia is growing too.
She's learning new words and how to identify colors (well color singular at least, we see a lot of green). She's spotting new bugs and how they crawl. She's unearthing new plants and taste-testing the weeds. She's struggling against my boundaries. She's figuring out how to share with me (dirt and other things too). She's getting her first tastes of cooperation, obedience, and patience.
The garden has added this new dynamic to our relationship. In the garden, we've found a safe place to have a bit more space and independence from one another, a place to work side by side to a common end, a place to enjoy well earned breaks or moments of celebration for work done well, and a place to learn and grow together.
It's a beautiful place, Grammy. I wish you could be with us to feel the warmth of the Maine sun, to picknick in our grass, to laugh at Sofia's antics, to hear the wave like sounds of wind rushing through our pine trees. But I hope you can enjoy these photos of Sofia in it at least.
And I hope you know that I'm passing on a lesson or two that you taught me. More than that, I hope you know that I am grateful for the ways you made me who I am, ways that help me love my Sofia and help her to grow. I hope you know that in our garden, your labor of love is bearing sweet sweet fruit.
Love,
Zoë Faith
Well, maybe they could not grow so well completely on their own. I've certainly pulled my fair share of weeds out of these beds, heaping piles in fact. I've pulled unfortunately large amounts of weeds out of Sofia too. She spends half our time outside running around, grabbing huge handfuls of dirt out of my nicely prepared planters. It begins as a little competition between us, I'm turning the soil or filling a pot and she wants to grab my dirt away from me. She snatches it right off my shovel. But this is not meant just to foil my efforts. She runs that dirt quickly over to our garden gnome and gently offers it to his mouth, sometimes finishing off the act by giving him a little kiss on his beard. This process is one I find endearing. I figure I can spare some of my dirt for the sake of her pet. Perhaps she too is trying to nurture something she loves, just like me with my garden, and me with her. 
She's learning new words and how to identify colors (well color singular at least, we see a lot of green). She's spotting new bugs and how they crawl. She's unearthing new plants and taste-testing the weeds. She's struggling against my boundaries. She's figuring out how to share with me (dirt and other things too). She's getting her first tastes of cooperation, obedience, and patience. 
