My dad came to gardening later than most. Out of the clear blue sky he became infatuated with growing roses, tho he had never shown a lick of interest in growing anything before that. When I moved into a tiny little abode of my own, he brought rose bushes and planted them in my postage stamp yard. That yard, and those times, were over 20 years ago, but whenever I see my Angel Face roses in bloom, or smell their lovely sweet scent, I am taken back to that time when my dad showed me that pretty purply rose.
I hope your gardening continues to help you through the worst of this. There is something about the continual renewal of a garden that helps us all know that life does go on.
