The Garden

The garden was overgrown now, but still he wanted to sit. Annie had always loved taking care of the garden. She worked in it every day, kneeling on her knees to pull weeds, or stooping over plants to trim them, or planting new seeds and bulbs. Every morning, like clockwork, she could be found with her once-pink gloves and her straw hat, putting love into her plants. Every day, that was, until she’d had a stroke. Steve didn’t know how, but he’d known something was wrong and he went to check on her. He found her, a bundle of flowers still clutched in her hand, sprawled on the grass. She was barely breathing. He had just enough time to take hold of her hand and tell her that he loved her. Then he watched as the life left her eyes.

After the funeral Steve had tried to keep the garden free of weeds. He knew Annie would be pleased that he’d kept up after it, but he just didn't have the green thumb she did. He'd considered hiring someone to take care of the plants, but the thought of a stranger's hands digging in the dirt she had so painstakingly kept free of weeds was painful. He couldn't bear to watch someone else in her garden. So he'd left it to nature to take its course.

Nearly one year later he sat on the wooden bench he had made for her to sit on and enjoy her garden. He remembered the days their children were young and would run around the yard as Annie turned the soil and lovingly tended her plants. She had raised their children with the same love of gardening. Now grown, he knew both kept large gardens in their own yards. It had brought Annie joy in her last years to know that their children would carry on her legacy.

A quick look around the garden filled him with a bittersweet memory of the day he’d found her on her hands and knees, her pregnant belly bulging before her. Their oldest was due in less than a week, but still she wouldn’t allow her garden to be neglected. It brought a smile to his face that day to see her so diligently working with the earth. When he asked her what she thought she was doing she calmly explained to him that he should be grateful she was so concerned about keeping the plants alive—it showed that she’d be a diligent and concerned mother to their unborn child. When Steve had burst out laughing, she glared at him until he bit his lip to stop laughing. Steve sighed. Annie was the love of his life, and he was lost without her.

He’d been diagnosed with stage four pancreatic cancer only two weeks earlier. The doctors were surprised he’d lasted as long as he did. Just as he knew that something had been wrong with Annie that day, he knew he had only moments left. Though his son, who had flown from out of state to stay with Steve for his last few weeks, had worried about the strain it would cause, he had still helped the old man to the garden. He looked toward the spot where Annie had lain last and he could almost see her kneeling there, smiling at him underneath her hat. He watched as she faded from view. The bench was hard beneath him, but Steve barely noticed as he laid down. He stared up at the cloudless blue sky and a calm peace settled over him. He would be with his wife soon enough. Smiling, Steve closed his eyes for the last time.