I saw some holyhocks growing near my sister's house today. It brought back dreams of the ones I carried home in secret the seeds to plant. A surprise for my father. I hoped they'd grow and bloom before father's day. I had traded some rooted cuttings for the seeds. They were holyhocks. My girlfriends and I used to trade seeds and cuttings of all sorts. We started about age 10. I had little money back then, to buy even a pack of seeds. So I studied books at the library, or from friends and family anything I could to get a new plant. These seeds grew fast and tall. My father must have known what they were, but said nothing to hint. He'd pretend he wasn't sure if something was a weed or not,and say, "Let's see if it blooms and we can tell then." So we watched, I watered, he watered, they grew. They started blooming the week of Father's Day, a gift from me to him. I harvested some of the seeds to spread in our small and growing garden. In 10 years, before he died we had gotten a garden to grow with over 50 species of annuals, 5 trees, and about 10 bushes. His flowers were in full spring bloom when he died. We picked his favorites to fill vases for the funeral, so he could have his flowers once again. He had known he was on borrowed time for several years, we all knew it. He'd picked his plot to be near a cherry blossom tree. I used to come visit even before he died, even when pregnate and heavy with child, to weed, and plant new flowers for him. My mother and siblings didn't mind watering the garden, and helping to plant, but I did the weeded with joy. We created beauty in a place that there were small or no gardens, so many happy memories. Children could knock on our door to ask to help with the garden, to share seeds, and knew they could come ask to pick a flower for their mothers if they asked. Most would not have anything to give as a gift, as none of us had much money. Next year, when I am allowed to garden again, the doctors have said I can (still recoverying from a deep tissue tear in my shoulder from an accident) I have my seeds to start my garden anew. It's been run down and wild as I was banned 3 years. I have my seeds and bulbs ready to go. I'll enclose it and bann the jackrabbits. My hollyhocks will be in bloom by the spring for my dad to smile again. I feel him with me in the garden, where he loved to be a kid again. He was orphan as a child, but remebered gardening on their farm with his parents. So for them all, I will paint flowers until I can grow them again. Daisies for my grandmother, every kind for my father, wildflowers for my grandparents, irises and marigolds for my late mother-in-law. I will think of them when I am in the garden, when I am painting or taking photos. I will feel them all with me.