Marigolds in the garden

“Pumpkins, she wanted pumpkins”. The old man mused as he tilled up more soil.“I swear every kid wants pumpkins” he thought as the marigolds from last year’s garden fell to the knifes of the rototiller, several dried brown marigold flowers exploding their seeds as the cutting blades came for them. Still he smiled, picturing little Nellie’s excited face when he asked her what did she want him to plant in the garden.

He had always kept a garden, as his father had before him. He could still hear him saying “Keeping a garden is good for your soul son” He would always just nod and keep hoeing. That one took years before he fully understood just what he meant by it. He had added his own bit to the saying years later when his kids were old enough to help. He almost laughed thinking about the blank looks he had gotten when he told them “You tend to your soul like you tend to your garden and you’ll always be alright”

Putting the tiller away for the night Matthew headed for the old farmhouse. Leaving his shit kickers on the back porch he headed in for a nice cool shower. Tired but refreshed he sat down with his warmed up leftovers from last nights dinner. “Beef stew always tasted better the second night anyway” he thought for the umteenth time in his ninety years.

He looked young for his years some folks were fond of saying, smiling he would always thank them for thinking that. Some would go a little further and ask him what his secret was. “Simple living” was always his reply. Seems most folk nowadays had forgotten that easy lesson. Too caught up in their own lives they have forgotten how to live, content and whole.

The next day was threatening rain so Matthew was in the garden early hoeing up several hills to plant the pumpkins. “She wants pumpkins, well then she’ll get pumpkins” he said out loud to himself laughing. The seeds went in quickly and Matt added a row of sunflowers seeds to the back edge just for looks. A nice gentle rain had started so Matt left off and headed back in.

Matt was never overly religious, his thinking on the matter was to each their own. So long as it didn’t infringe on others then so be it. His brand of religion was more of a worship of the earth and all within it. He had always tried to instill the same practices in their children, to varying degrees of success.

Back in the house Matt cleaned himself up and settled into his chair, it was one of the last purchases that Claire and Matt had done together, shortly before her passing. Sipping his coffee he contemplated how things had turned out. Little Nellie his great granddaughter was cute as all get out. Her precociousness was addictive, he loved the time, brief as it was that he got to spend with her. She already reminded him of his son, her grandfather. That thought still felt weird to him for some reason, “His son a grandfather” who would have thought.

Tim had been a handful growing up. He was always pushing the boundaries, seeing just how much he could get away with. His formative years being in the sixties didn’t help matters. Matt had always given him as much rope as he could hoping to steer him in the right direction. He remembered a specific event when Tim wasn’t much older than Nellie was today.

As usual he had been out in the vegetable garden. On this particular day he had been planting some marigolds around the edge. In Tim’s precocious manner he asked why he was planting flowers out in the vegetable garden where no one would see them. Matt conveyed to his son how they were beneficial to the garden. That the vegetables benefit from having the protection of the marigolds by their ability to repel various insects.

Later in his teens he wasn’t so easy to get through to, Matt had long since stopped being the major influence in his sons life, various young hot heads had taken his place in the guidance category. Still Matt had tried to convince his son of their misconceptions, that everything didn’t need to resort to violence. “ Your too much of a pacifist” Tim would yell at him, storming off.

Tim eventually went off to college, it would be years before Matt would see or hear from him again.

Many seasons had come and gone, the size of Matt’s garden growing smaller simply because of need. That and he never was very good at the canning part, Claire had always been the one who did it. Still he always put a “free, take what you need” table out near the road for any folk willing to stop for some cucumbers or summer squash.

It was only a couple of weeks before Nellie and her Dad stopped by just to say hi and cut some fresh asparagus for their dinner. That kid remembered everything, her feet had barely hit the ground and she was off to check on the pumpkins. Sorely disappointed, she had expected much more than some small plants poking out of the ground. Asparagus cut, Billy took Nellie up to the house to visit with grandpa for a bit.

Matt was sitting out on the screened porch, enjoying the nice breeze. Nellie and Billy came up the steps and closed the screen door behind them, sitting on the swing. What kid could ever resist a swing. “Or adult for that matter” Matt laughed quietly to himself. “How’s the asparagus looking?” Matt inquired. “Coming along just fine” Billy replied. They sat in silence for a few moments before Matt asked the same old question, “How’s your dad doing?”

Billy exhaled slowly through his lips, pausing as long as he could. This subject was the other reason for his visit on a week night. Nellie was preoccupied with some old children’s books that Matt and Claire had held onto for all the children. Billy turned to his grandfather and said “Not good Grandpa, not good”.

Matt just sat there for what seemed a long time, thinking thing over in his head. Finally he turned to his grandson, a man in his early forties and said “Billy do me a favor and bring him around this weekend if it’s possible” Billy nodded and said he’d try.

Matt spent quite a bit of time over the next few days tending to his garden and thinking about Tim. His son, the one who just couldn’t ever seem to get over certain events from his past. Despite his intelligence he always seemed to focus on the transgressions that had been perpetrated against him. These few events had forever ruled his life. Causing a continuous meltdown of every relationship that he had engaged in. Failed marriages, lost jobs, short stints in the county jail, he always had an excuse. It was never his fault. Which was somewhat true because he choose badly, subconsciously knowing of the impending failure.

Long ago, having found out the true reason for all of Tim’s anger Matt had felt his own guilt for not having prevented it. Or at the least been there to support him in the aftermath of the abuse had he known. Today looking back it was easy to spot, the subtle change in Tim’s personality, he could almost put an x on the calendar. It was that obvious. Then when he had found out not only was it too late, he had exacerbated the problem by enabling him, instead of making him responsible for his own actions despite the abuse.

Things had eventually gotten better, the older Tim became he had managed to get by. Making a meager living on his own terms, not being able to fit into the normal forty hour a week existence. Still sometimes there would be another event, another small slight against him blown into a major catastrophe. Therapy, it seems was never able to fully heal the wounds that continued to fester inside of him. Spinning endlessly in his head. Alcohol being his go to self medication and the cause of numerous problems.

Saturday came and around mid morning Billy pulled into the driveway with Tim riding along. His left eye black and blue, still slightly swollen. His lower lip not much better. Matt gave them both a hug and asked them if they wanted coffee. Sitting on the front porch again, they drank their coffee, enjoying some small talk. Soon though, Billy had to go, leaving Tim and Matt to themselves.

Having finished their coffee Matt and Tim headed down to the garden, some light weeding needed doing. They worked quietly, it was easy work seeing that Matt had always kept ahead of the weeds. Their quiet conversations soon came around to the latest issue that Tim had run head first into. In Matt’s view, it seemed that his son had, yet again invited the problem. Never being one to keep his mouth shut.

The weeding done, Matt asked Tim to fetch the flat of flowers from the barn. The marigolds needed planting, this seemed like the prefect time to get them in. Tim went and got them, remembering all the past springs they’d spent doing this chore. It didn’t seem nearly as tedious as it had in his youth. He rather enjoyed it.

An hour later they stood shoulder to shoulder surveying their work. Matt had decided earlier in the week that now was the time to hopefully but some of this shit to bed. “Whatya think? Look alright?” he asked. Tim nodded his head “Looks good Dad” “Tending to our souls are we?” “Yup” answered Matt. They turned and headed back up to the house. Putting the tools away on the way.

Grabbing some iced tea from the fridge they settled back down on the porch. Halfway through his glass Matt turned to Tim and told him he wanted to say a few things and that Tim “Shouldn’t get his back up over what he was going to say”. Tim just kept looking out into the yard and shrugged his shoulders.

“Where to start” thought Matt “How do I fix my child’s problems?” Finally he decided to ask Tim what he thought he needed to fix himself. Right out of the gate Tim was defensive. “Whata mean fix?” Matt recognized the attitude from past encounters. He knew this wasn’t going to be easy or even possible if Tim didn’t want help. “Well maybe what I meant to say was that, it seems that you’ve got some weeding of your own to work on. Don’t ya think?” Tim just shrugged again, saying nothing. Matt let the silence stretch out some, before his next sentence. Finally he said “ I want you to move back in Tim, I could use the help and you could use some solitude.”

Tim looked at his Dad, “seriously?” he asked. “Absolutely” replied Matt. “Is tomorrow too soon?” Tim didn’t know what to say to that. He wasn’t sure it would work. Matt added “One day a time right?” Tim thought on it some more, “Well that garden is going to need some tending to, what with all those pumpkins you planted.” Matt laughed at that and the tension broke some. “After all” Tim said “ You tend to your garden like you tend to your soul and you’ll be alright.”