So, My Father was a Gardener?
When going through some old photos I'd never seen before, one photo brought tears to my eyes. Not because it was a photo of my father. Rather, it was what his mother had written on the back side dated July 1928. "Walter in his Garden. Age 12." I never knew my father had his own garden at such a young age. I never knew he liked gardening period. Not once growing up did I get any inkling that he had been a young gardener. It was my mother who had been the gardener. She never planted vegetables. It was always snapdragons she'd plant alongside a rock wall. She never had any idea how much I liked to sit in the grass and pick a few flowers off a random snapdragon plant when she wasn't around. Then I would place my fingers inside the flower just so and make it look as if the flower was talking. Or laughing. Or even singing in the breeze. I would sing along with the singing flower while sitting alongside the rock wall. After looking at that photo over and over again, it ...
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