GARDEN CONVERSATIONS

Conceivably, I am not the only one that talks to ghosts. Lord knows, there are plenty of opportunities. I believe that if you are thinking about someone you have loved, and that has passed on, they come to comfort or give advice and/or moral support and encouragement. Certainly, none of the spirits I talk to or listen to are there to give ill-advice or to do any harm at all. They just sort of pop up as I work in the garden.

Dad pops in once in a while to tell me to use a bale of hay and some manure in the flower beds. He was always growing something. He was an Ag major at Cornell before he enlisted in the Marines. Just think if he’d been able to finish college after the war.

Mom was always planting bluebonnets and iris in the side bed by the driveway. She just follows and chats pleasantly…mostly keeping me company while I rake, chop and weed. Her forte was mostly in the literary field. Sometimes she follows me around in the house.

My grandmother, we call Munnie, is usually right over my shoulder. That’s some task, as she was pretty short in stature. She stands there in her apron and her tight little fist on her hip. She advises me, “You should do your gardening as soon as light hits. It’s too hot out here for you.” And a little later, “Your mint is doing very well!” “Next year, you should plant a vegetable garden.” And, “It’s very good to stay busy! That way you stay out of trouble!” She was always worried about that....keeping me out of trouble.

My grandfather, aka, Granddad, talks to me of many things. His philosophies are genuine and amusing at the same time. He tells the story of Jonah and the Whale. “M’liss, someday, people are going to read that ‘Harry was in a pickle’, and they're gonna believe it!” He told that one to me when explaining his philosophy of the Bible just before I married. He likes my fruit trees, and oddly, he loves my little cactus plants….specifically the giant pencil cactus that Anne gave me years ago. It was only a little thing then.

Speaking of cactus….There’s Aunt Ollie. To some of us she was Aunt Cactus, because at times, she could be a bit prickly. She’s another that’s always there. She actually answers some of my questions. She usually makes her presence know with the same question, “Harvested any broomsticks today?” No, I don’t fly them. Mine is the latest model….solar powered Dyson. Actually, Aunt Ollie used to come get me to help her work in her yard when I was just a little girl. She would say to Mom, “Sis, I need to borrow Missy. That child could grow a broomstick!”

My sister, Joanie is another one who is ever present. She detested working in the yard, but she loves the Plumbago plants in the back yard, and loves to hang around in my tropical pathway near the shower. I think she likes the calm there. Mostly, she just smiles. Sometimes, she asks me questions about my life. Other times, she tells me that she so happy that I’m happy. Our conversations really help me sort things out.

There are ghosts in the house too. Gammie, our Yankee grandmother, hovers over me when I set the table. She is most proud that I remember exactly how she taught me to set a table. Down here, in the South, it's called "laying the table". She also reminds me regularly to polish my silver. That seemed to be a good thing to give little girls to do. You know … to keep them busy so they wouldn’t become heathens. Well, part of that worked. I do polish my silver. Now, being a grandmother, I understand why they worried so about their granddaughters and grandsons ... but mostly about the granddaughters.

My Great Aunt Bibi is still looking for a tissue. We went to see her in a retirement home when Barbara was a baby, about 40 years ago. She is Bibi’s namesake. "When she saw us, she immediately got teary, saying, "Oh! It's Georgie's little girl!" Then, she frantically looked for tissue stored in her ample bosom, saying; “I know I had two of them when I came in here.” I keep a box of Kleenex on the tea cart in the kitchen for Aunt Bibi.

Lastly, the father of my daughters comes around on occasion. I think he wants me to know he’s also watching the girls. And, sometimes, I tell on them to him, as if he didn’t already know. I guess I'm hoping that he haunts them too. He lets me know that he is calm and at peace now.

Conversations with these friendly and loving spirits helps my chores in the garden move smoothly and it goes much faster. I feel that I have the company and comfort of these people who used to walk among us. I believe they are here to comfort us and take away our fears of dying and death, to make us more conscious and grateful of what we have today … right here and now.

There are more, and there are some that haven’t yet come to visit. Haven’t heard from Uncle George, Uncle Torch or Aunt Joanie, Aunt Mary Ann or Uncle Danny. I have fond memories of them, and I expect they will come to visit, sooner or later. I hope they do. They are welcomed here.