I asked Alejandro if we could save them, but he said some of the root systems were too developed and it was impossible to save them all. I told him that he could have pretended that wasn't the case for my sake. Like the family dog that has passed on and your parents tell you has "gone to live on a lovely farm." He could have told me he was carting them home and would raise them as his own or some such softening of the truth. (Though I was teasing him, I genuinely felt sad and more than a little guilty.)
I see him listening to me. He always has the same benevolent smile. It's the smile a guru has for his student; –the smile of the seasoned gardener. The one who graciously allows me time to grow and mature. Though he doesn't utter a word, I know what he is thinking, "Patience, my dear. Patience."
See home &; garden (books and magazines):
|linen & lavender|