By: Misty Murph'Ariens

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Last year, on my birthday, my dad came to our farm to visit.  He was up from Texas to attend my brothers wedding. Since he had been staying at my brothers place in Hamilton and my brother had flown off to his honeymoon, leaving his car for my dad, I told him he had no excuse not to come see our place.  Last I had seen my dad was at my wedding, three years previous and he had never seen our place.  We had talked on the phone about our life quite a bit, so he knew roughly what to expect.  When he arrived, I showed him around our garden and I saw his face light up.  You see, I learned my love of nature from my dad.  When I was a kid, he volunteered his time to the local Arboretum, where he earned his Master Gardener certification on his weekends.  Like many men of that generation, he suffered greatly from the non-stop work ethic and subsequently was very stressed.  But, in his gardens, he was at peace.  There was healing in the beautiful landscapes he created.  Years ago, he told me that when he passed on, he wanted us to take his ashes, put them into a pot, “Not an expensive one,” he said, and plant a tree on top.  That way, he said, he “could still contribute to the world.” So, quite satisfied with our efforts to create a functional yet beautiful sustenance vegetable and herb garden, I showed him the house.  He stepped into our hand-built 10x10' mud and timber frame house, climbed the ladder to the sleeping loft, climbed down, looked around and said, “Yeah, I sure could get used to this.”  He always dreamed of leaving the 'rat race', building his own 'tiny' house and living off the land.  Throughout my childhood, I had picked up the satisfaction that came from building for oneself, from the many additions, decks and greenhouses he had erected on weekends.  Also like many from that generation, mortgage payments always prevented him from achieving his dream.  We then showed him out to the gazebo in the garden, next to the paddock, where we have a couch and armchairs set up.  He walked in, sunk down onto the couch, put his feet up on the wicker coffee table and said, “I love your living room!”Over the years, my dad and I, both with strong wills, have butted heads.  He encouraged me to go to university, and when I left university after my mom passed away, he was disappointed and told me so.  When I went to culinary school and got a job as a chef in the city, he was not impressed as I had expected.  Though I also learned my passion for good food from him, he felt I could do greater things.  When he saw me happily married, living in a tiny house our hands had built, watched me do laundry with a washtub and board, heard me singing to my cow as I milked her, he saw what I had chosen for my life.  That evening, as we shared a bottle of wine my dad said, “Misty, not only am I very proud of you, I'm envious.”  That was the nicest birthday I can remember.  We talked about a lot during the visit, how his health had not been good.  He had decided not to continue taking his diabetes medication some time ago, and could not seem to quit smoking.  After years of the family being on his case about taking care of himself, I finally understood.  He was who he was, and wanted to be allowed to be.  He had seen and done a lot, and there wasn't much more work for him to do.  My brother and I were happy and could take care of ourselves.  Before he left, I told him that I loved him very much, that I was so grateful for all he taught me, that any hurt that had been between us was forgiven.  As we hugged and kissed goodbye, my heart was filled with love.  I didn't know then that it would be the last time I would see my dad, but when my Uncle called the other day to tell me that he had some bad news, my mind went to that hug, and my heart filled once more with love.  I loved my dad very much, and I will miss him always.  But, I will plant that tree in his honour, and I will think of all the things he did for me, taught me, gave me.  And, his ashes being scattered at his beloved Arboretum, I know his soul will be at peace, in the garden forever.

Our community garden at the Egremont Optimist Centre in Holstein will open in May.  All are welcome to come plant and learn. Free sustainable gardening workshop dates to be announced.  For more information, call 519-313-0403 or email mistyariens@live.com.