As I was pruning a rose last week l let my body go through the automatic motions of cuts and clips. I have pruned so many roses over the years that I can work while my thoughts go elsewhere. On this particular rainy morning i was remembering my first encounter with rose pruning.
I was 8 years old in a small farm town in southeast Michigan. The snow had melted and spring was trying to establish itself when my mom mentioned to her brother, my uncle, that our rose needed some work. Well, being that he lived only a block away he rode his lawn mower over to cut the grass and tend to the rose. Since my dad had moved out we relied on our family for help around the house.
My brother and I were playing around in the back yard when we heard our mom raising her voice and getting angry with our helpful uncle. It turned out that he not only mowed the grass but the large, unruly rose bush too. Right down to the ground! My uncle reassured her that it would grow back and not to worry but that didn't calm mom down at all. In fact it seemed to incite her more. My uncle rode away chuckling as mom grumbled into the house and all the way to next year. Even the regrowth of that rose did not quiet her grumbling. To this day, 38 years later, it is still a laugher in our family.
Over the years of watching my mom garden I have recognized her style of gardening. She likes her garden to have good growth with a loose and free approach. She tends to the plants and trees yet lets them be what they are. She worries about storms that pass through and is joyful at every little bloom. She never gives thought to replacing what she has and introduces other plants that are good companions.
In many ways this is the way she brought up her two boys. She would give anyone the dickens that tried to prune us in. She would nurture us with a steady love and room to roam. Mom let our natures develop. There were boundaries and we were taught that good manners were important. And even though we are responsible for every gray hair on that sweet woman's head, we always respect and appreciate how free we were as children and as we are as adults because of her approach to raising us. I am looking forward to walking through her garden with her and to hear about the latest attempt by my step dad to prune back the gardenia bush (it really does need it!).
Sunday, February 3, 2008
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