As some of you may know, Ben's mum passed away suddenly last year: The hardest thing I’ve ever had to write ‘Mum has gone’
And it was sudden - she was told that her cancer was in remission, and we were all so relieved. It had been a rough two years at that point. With the fact that Ben and I lived in the smaller cottage right next to hers meant that we were there with her, every step of the way. Having known my mother in law for over 15 years when she was diagnosed meant it was so natural to support her in any way we could, and being so very close in terms of proximity meant she didn't have to do it alone.
So you can imagine the shock of finding out that the doctor's missed it, and the devastation of her death less than two weeks later...
With Spring just around the corner, our little patch of paradise is coming to life again:
It's so weird that she's not here to enjoy it. By now, Hazel would be out here for most of the day, weeding and pottering around the borders or sitting down to read by the apple tree. There is a sense of bittersweetness to it all, and at points it just takes my breath away.
(Cabie Bat here in full supervisor mode!)
So I think it's time to figure out how to keep the garden and orchard looking lovely. With my own physical limitations, it's not an easy place for me to be, so I'm going to have to think on how I can do this. Ben does the bulk of it (thank goodness) and we've already started to make some changes:
Before, this area was highly overgrown, and although it looks better, there's still more to do.
I think with gardens of any size, there's always more to do, lol - aaaaand I've just realised that my reflections on this very garden encompasses the whole human condition...blimey! That's profound - and rather mind blowing.
I wasn't quite sure what I was going to write when I sat down to start this post last night, I just knew I needed to do it. Strange, isn't it.