Comforting memories of Grandma’s garden

At this time of year, nostalgia and looking forward to a new year of gardening hit me. These combine to remind me of the only grandparent I knew. Grandma, my dad’s mother. For many gardeners, inspiration comes from many different sources. For me, it was Grandma’s garden.

Like most of her era, Grandma was a farmer and grew things first for sustenance and secondly for pleasure. She lived in Fort Collins, Colo.

To get a feel for her garden, I must define my grandma’s house: a modest, small house on a very, narrow and deep lot, which sat amid others of like kind. The lot and street were scenic and tree lined, the house had roses, shrubs and flowers surrounding it. Down one side was the path leading to the garden gate.

I always got to sleep on the screened back porch with Dad, as there were only two bedrooms in the tiny house. The porch always smelled wonderful! Depending on the time of the year, it had fresh vegetables and fruit, small plants and flowers in pots — even leftovers, such as apple pie. There was barely room to open the rollaway bed because of the canning jars, baskets, garden tools and assorted paraphernalia that occupied every cranny. Halfway down the stairs to the left were the backyard and garden. Down the remaining stairs was the cellar, packed with “put up” food of all kinds.

Of course, the garden was surrounded by a fence. It wasn’t the proverbial white picket

fence, rather a metal post with decorative woven wire. I don’t remember the detail, but I do remember how interesting and “old timey” I thought it was

back in the ’50s. There was also fencing at the back of the lot that separated the garden from the chicken coop and alley.

I remember the apple trees, rhubarb and roses, but no other specific flowers or veggies come to mind now. How could this inspire me? It’s the feeling that remains a part of me that I want, in my own way, to replicate. Everything I absorbed through the sights, smells and tastes in Grandma’s garden provides inspiration. It was a veritable Eden in my mind’s eye

Writing at this distance, some memories aren’t as clear, but they still bring inspiration and comfort to me.

Getty Images The sights and smells of a garden can live on for a lifetime.

Rusu Adela / Getty Images The smell of roses may trigger a memory of Grandma’s garden.

Victoria Iakovleva / Getty Images The apple trees in the garden shared their bounty each year.