A gardener remembers her dad’s lessons
By MARILYN MCKINLEY
OSU Master Gardener Volunteer
I am seriously into flower gardens. I love to be outside. The wonders of nature never cease to amaze me. I feel like I am a part of something so magical.
This, I inherited from my dad.
Dementia robbed him of so much. But until near the end, when he was outside, or when someone spoke of plants or nature, his eyes lit up. He loved to talk about the weather and farm crops to anyone who would listen. He would always ask what the temperature was.
With fondness, I recall standing on the back porch watching clouds and storms roll in. We would check the rain gauge and measure how much snow had fallen.
My dad taught me the importance of soil. I remember him taking a bag of soil to the Farm Bureau for testing.
I used to ride on the back of the corn planter, on the hay wagon, piled bales of straw in the hay loft, and rode in the wagon as he picked corn.
Dad used to talk about taking care of the earth. He talked about how everyone should leave it better than they found it. He talked about soil conservation and stewardship.
He planted a huge garden every year. One hundred tomato plants every spring.
Yes, I was forced to hoe and pull weeds, and pick peas and beans.
Every spring, Dad would bring the first radish into the house. I can still see his face, beaming with that “look what I grew” smile. The same thing happened with the first ripe tomato.
Dad was too busy farming and working second jobs to fuss over flowers.
I remember the night at the supper table when Mom and Dad said I could have a little space in the garden to plant anything I wanted to. I planted zinnias, gladiolus, cosmos and nasturtiums.
I faithfully plant those flowers every spring. I used to spot him in my flower patch, checking to see if any bugs were bothering my beloved flowers.
He would tell me that he “happened to notice” that the first flower was about to bloom.
Dad taught me not to walk on wet ground, and that a little fertilizer goes a long way. He taught me how to gently hoe around the plants, not to harm the roots, and so much more.
I rode the tractor with my dad. We would jump off the tractor, go into the woods and look for wildflowers or better yet morel mushrooms.
Everyone’s dad has influenced their life. I am so thankful my dad shared his love and awe of nature. He taught me how to work hard, care, be responsible, and to share. I miss my dad.
Be sure to share your love of nature and gardening with your kids and grandkids this Father’s Day.