I dug in the dirt, prepping the soil with fertilizer. As I worked, my thoughts wandered. Everything I knew about gardening was through my grandfather’s teachings. Working by his side as a child had always been such fun. That is until as a teenager, I’d rather hang at the mall with friends than be sent to my grandparents house while my mother worked.
On one such occasion, we were planting flowers in front of the newly painted farmhouse. Grampa rambled on. I’d barely listened.
“If you paint an old house white it looks clean and fresh. And if you plant bright red flowers against the white walls, the house pops and looks new.”
I’d rolled my eyes and promptly forgot his words...until now.
Standing in front of my freshly painted white home, with the newly planted trailing red blooms and red roses, I smiled.
“I miss you, Grampa.”
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