I miss my mom.
Yesterday we decided that it was time to dig up the potatoes from our garden. We put the seed into the ground around St. Patrick's Day back in March. When we bought the seed the weekend before, I was a little worried about it. It didn't look quite like what I was used to back in Kansas. Some of the seed had already started to sprout and one or two of the little potatoes had to be tossed away. But it was time to get them into the earth and so we did. We watered them faithfully, pulled grass out from around the rows, and then did one more thing.
We waited.
Burkburnett had an abundance of rainfall in the days that would follow. Just this past week alone, we saw around 4-5 inches of rain fall in our part of the world. I kept looking at the garden all week long and saw that if it ever did stop raining, Mike and I were going to have our work cut out for us with all the grass and weeds that had started to grow along with our little crops. So when the rain finally quit falling down yesterday, I headed out with the mower, rake, and hoe to see what I could do.
That's when I noticed the potatoes. Their leaves were all curled up and seemed to be dying out. I thought surely that something was wrong with them. As a matter of fact, I told Mike that we should just pull all the old plants out of there and start over. I never dreamt that there would be much to salvage. I figured that days and days of nonstop rain at times might have taken their toll on them. He agreed that it was probably time to take them out of there and go on to something different.
That's when we got the surprise. Each time the potato fork dug into the earth, potatoes of fairly good size came out with it. I was so shocked to see them all. I imagined that all we would get would be rotten potatoes that hadn't had the chance to grow at all. We only had two rows planted to begin with and each of the rows probably contained less than a dozen plants. When it was all said and done, we ended up with two 5-gallon buckets full of them. We got way more than our seed back and my mom would say that's a good thing.
I started the digging process before Mike got home from work at the hardware store. It was there in that first row of potatoes that I had a conversation with my mom. Each time the fork would dig into the soil, I'd say something to her....
"Wow! Mom, take a look at this!"
"I wish you were here to see these things."
"They aren't quite as good as yours were Mom but I hope you are proud of me."
Some people would say it's crazy to speak to someone who no longer is here. I beg to differ. I do it quite often. Although I don't miss my mom every single minute of the day any longer, because I know that's not the way she would wish for it to be, I do miss her at certain times. She taught me so much about growing things and sometimes I find myself wishing that she might still be here so I can ask her questions about things I should have paid more attention to in this life. I want her to see the flowers that I'm growing in our flowerbeds, the blooms on the Magnolia tree in our backyard, the bird feeders that are all around the house, and a dozen more things that I think she would have enjoyed.
Those times on this earth are done for Mom and I.
This is the summer before my 61st year. In many ways, I definitely feel my age. It's a natural thing I suppose and one that we all must face sooner or later. Yet in many other ways, I still feel like a little girl, one who still needs her mother to talk to and confide in. I suppose that is kind of a natural thing as well for some of us. When she passed away in 2007, the end of our times together came to a close. Until we meet again in Heaven, I cherish the times like yesterday afternoon.
With dirt covered hands that held an old potato fork~
And a heart filled with memories and love~
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