An entrance with Confederate Jasmine

Blue was my mom’s favorite color, so the furniture (that came from her garden) was painted a bright blue!

Spiderwort plant—opens in the morning, closes in the evenings

Daylilies in bloom add a striking color with the purple iris

Bird feeders, including hummingbird feeders throughout the garden

Coleus planted around the oak tree add color with their beautiful foliage.

Purple Iris after the rain

The Memory Garden gives a place to heal as you dig in the dirt and a source for friends and family to have a lasting legacy.

Lazy days in the Memory Garden!

Coleus (Coleus blumei)

Old bricks form the borders around the garden beds

Monkey grass adds a colorful border with the old bricks

Purple iris

Entrance created by stacking pavers

The old oak tree is the focal point of the Memory Garden

The year 2008 was emotionally challenging for our family. First, we faced the unexpected death of my mother, then our son-in-law’s dad. During this time, our son deployed to Iraq.

In mid-December of 2007, my mother was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer. In early February, six weeks after her diagnosis, she passed away. With a heavy heart, I turned to gardening as a source of healing. Digging in the dirt seems to heal my heart, and I feel a close connection with my Creator.

After my mom’s diagnosis, she moved in with us as I cared for her. One morning as she sat gazing out a window that overlooks one of our flower gardens, she asked what we would do with all her plants from her yard. She wanted me to bring them to my house for us to enjoy, especially her roses and daylilies. She mentioned transplanting them around the beautiful oak tree that she could see from one of the side porches. Neither of us knew that just three weeks later, she would be gone, and I would be grieving.

With a hurting heart, I began in early March to dig the plants from her yard, and the creation of what became known as the Memory Garden started taking shape. Each time I made a trip to her house, digging in her dirt, my heart would break, and the tears would fall.

I made a lot of trips back and forth to her house, digging in her dirt. Finally, her roses, daylilies, and anything else we could safely transplant found a new home in the area around the oak tree and along the garden path. The garden began to come alive.

Benches and chairs that my brother built for her were placed in the garden, along with the bird feeders she enjoyed. All of her garden art was placed along the path through the garden and intertwined with the plants. We created two entrances to the garden and set two stone angels from her garden art collection at both entrances.

Rocks were gathered from her garden beds and used to create a focal point around the oak tree.

As we prepared her house for rental, we removed the old iron porch railing from her front porch and, in its place, built a new wooden porch. We used the old iron railings as an arbor for one of the Memory Garden entrances.

Objects she collected and had on display in her house found a new home in the garden to add whimsy, such as a ceramic cat made by my mother-in-law.

Friends and other family members took part by giving gifts of time, plants, or objects. As the garden began to grow, my heart was healing. Everything was happy in its new home, everything that is except for the roses. They needed help, and I did not inherit my mother’s gift of caring for roses. I needed intervention so the roses could survive!

Early morning on the first Mother’s Day without her, I poured a cup of coffee and headed out to spend some time in the garden, to sit and reminisce about the beautiful life my precious mother had given and shared with her children and grandchildren. As I walked through the garden, passing the area where just the day before I noticed how sad and pitiful the roses looked, I was amazed to find one red rose in bloom. Not just a bud but a beautiful red rose in full bloom! It was a beautiful, unexpected gift and, without a doubt, bloomed only because of the work of the Master Gardener.

The Memory Garden has evolved to become a place of solitude and peace for our entire family. Since my mother’s passing, two of my brothers have also passed away, so the garden includes plants that were given in their memory. We have included plants that were favorites of my son-in-law’s dad, the purple irises and some daylilies that were transplanted from his yard. The Confederate Jasmine that climbs over one of the entrances and beautiful azaleas was planted in his memory by his wife, my good friend. We also have included a plant, the Spiderwort, that came from his yard. It comes with a humorous story and each year as it blooms, brings laughter between our family.

I enjoy our Memory Garden and would encourage anyone who has experienced the passing of a loved one to consider creating a garden in their memory. It gives a place to heal as you work creating the garden, and a source for friends and family to have a lasting legacy.