The garden is getting away from me, but in a wild and beautiful way. The birds love it, so who cares? A nature sanctuary is rare and precious in this neighborhood, where many of the big box houses don't even have a front yard, much less a private back one.
Our garden has been 35 years in the making, with the exception of the fig tree and holly, it was all planted by me. Which is a bit mind-boggling. We walked around the house before dinner last night with our wineglasses, and the plants and trees were towering over our heads. Or, as I said to John, perhaps we're becoming one of those little old couples creeping along. The world is not getting bigger, we're just shrinking.
"The only thing that is constant is change."
On Friday morning, we're flying to Colorado with Amanda and my brother Dave. Mom's memorial service will be held on Saturday morning. Our family will gather privately at the Cripple Creek Cemetery to honor her life, and the afternoon, welcome friends to the house to share their memories and pay their respects to dad. Although this is a sad occasion, it is truly a celebration of mom's long life and the legacy of her wonderful family.
I probably won't have time to write in the next few days, but will check in if the opportunity comes up. I'm looking forward to spending time with dad and my family. We return to Seattle on Monday.
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