Gramp’s Garden

I didn’t have the smoothest childhood years. From the beginning, my mother, Bianca, was a runner who left a mere 8 hours after we were released from the hospital, and my father, Jay, was a deadbeat drug addict who dabbled in the crime. Jay brought in the occasional druggie mother figure but I was mainly raised by my grandfather, Henry, but I called him Gramps. Gramps tried for a long time to get his son to give a damn about his daughter but until the age of 10, the only question he ever asked me about myself was how much money I had on me.

“Hey kid,” Jay nagged as I walked up to his shivering blemished body draped across the couch, “Aren’t you in girl scouts or some sh*t like that?”

Shocked he even knew that I gave him a quick nod keeping my eyes down. “Don’t they ever give you money for selling those or anything?” 

“Well we get money but it all goes to charities or money for our group to do activities.” My feet shuffled in place eyes still nailed to the ground. 

Jay instantly huffed disgusted and the conversation was over for him but I was not finished. I wanted to tell my father about the amazing activities I do and the fun I have with my friends going door to door. So I mentioned something I knew he was interested in. “Wasn’t mom in girl scouts?” Jay immediately stood up and threw his cigarette towards the glass end table, 

“Yeah, hell of alotta good that did her.” And he was out the door.

 We never brought up Bianca after she left, my father forbid it and my Gramps never wanted me to see the pain of the world. As the years went on, Gramps and I were better than ever and Jay he was in a committed relationship with his heroine. When I turned twelve the two tied the knot, driving themselves all the way into the ground. The funeral was simple but filled with other druggie friends and dealers trying to get Jay’s debt paid by my mourning Gramps. 

Gramps started going to a grief group that summer, where he met Linda. Linda was a divorced 50-year-old that had a strong addiction to designer shoes and smoking. She despised kids and noise but Gramps and she bonded over their love of nature. Gramps had owned an indoor botanical garden for 35 years. It was our place to escape. On many occasions when Jay was too high or had a group of friends over Gramps would get me out of the house and take me to work with him. The first few times I came with he let me watch and enjoy the scenery but by the 5th time, I was ready to get my hands dirty and heal little parts of the world. 

“ I know it's not much sweetheart but if you ever need a place to be alone with nature you can come here,” Gramps always took people for who they were and supported them however he could. He was my hero, my protector. Little did I know, after Jay’s funeral Gramps had been searching for Bianca to help yet another one of my deadbeat parents. 

Linda began to come over for coffee dates and trips to the garden. But Gramps never let her see our dome. He said it was a “work in progress” but I knew it was specially kept for just us. 6 grief group sessions later Linda and Gramps were engaged and she was moving in. She brought over her Chanel purses and packs of Marlboros and began to redesign the home I began to feel comfortable in finally. Not soon after that, I was sent to the furnished attic because Linda needed more closet space and “couldn’t walk up those stairs with her knee”. I was understanding until last year's coach started ending up in my closet years later. Although a newlywed, Gramps still put me first and Linda hated that. One late winter night it was confirmed Linda was counting down the days until I turned 18. 

“She is just obsessed with you Henry, a 13-year-old girl should have friends her own age, not hanging out with a 72-year-old in a garden, maybe there's a camp we can send her to for some alone time,” Puffs of smoke came thickened the room between every sentence.

“Linda she has no one else, you have no idea what that girl has been through, and I'm not just some random old man hanging out with her. I am the last person in her bloodline alive and want to be in her life,” He put a reassuring hand on her knee and looked her deeply in her eye, “She needs me right now but you never forget I love you. I'm trying my hardest to make everyone happy and I-” Suddenly it looked like a truck full of wind knocked into him. I clutched the attic door as he steadied himself.

“Now Henry don’t be dramatic,” Linda got up with a huff, rubbed out her cigarette, and went to bed. I rushed out from behind the door and grabbed a glass of water, sitting beside Gramps. We both sat quietly as I laid my head on his shoulder and he caught his breath.

When I turned 15 Gramps became sicker and weaker naturally but he was still same the sunshine he was years before. Linda's family came over one easter and they threw a party. Her relatives were carbon copies of Linda from the smoke between their fingers to the Prada on their feet. Her younger sister Marline had a mouth on her and ridiculed Linda for her choice of husband and his “trailer trash” granddaughter. I listened in from the garden through the open window.

“Linda, you have to do better than this, that girl is probably embedded with all kinds of drugs, I'm surprised you haven't found anything wrong with her yet, ya know- mentally” Marline swung her cigarette around as she spoke leaving ash across our kitchen floor. Gramps heard this and immediately took me towards the garden not saying a word about his in-laws. He sat me down by the tulips with a shovel and blared his opera music. I sang along without knowing the words and Gramps went to grab the garden hose. 10 minutes later I found him collapsed in the dirt, I screamed for Linda and we took him to the hospital. Gramps had a trend of becoming injured and hospitalized on holidays. I never found out if it was because of the stress of it all or if just wanted to get out of spending time with the inlaws. The following years he had a fall at Thanksgiving, dropping the turkey, a heart attack on Christmas decorating the tree, and a broken arm on Labor Day, playing bags and falling. Gramps ended up getting back on his feet after a few weeks of physical energy and put on his sunshine face for everyone else around him.

I began an internship in the horticulture department with connections through Gramps’s friends from college at 17. I worked hands-on in community gardens with other volunteers my entire spring. I planted, watered, pruned, weeded, and mulched to my heart's desire, landing me a summer volunteer position in Mexico. A 10-week excursion filled with creating a beautiful garden in a beautiful country. At first, I was opposed to the idea because I would leave Gramps, the only family I had ever known, to go to an unknown country with strangers. But after a long talk with Gramps, he convinced me. 

“What have we always talked about,” Gramps and I sat in the center dome of his botanical gardens, our safe haven, potting plants as we spoke. “Being alone with nature and creating something beautiful in a dark world is all you have ever wanted to do.” Gramps patted the dirt around the carnation and smiled at me with wrinkled dimples, “I can’t force you to do anything but I do believe this is a chance of a lifetime and you would be silly not to take it.”

My eyes glistened as I broke into a laugh. I had been so overwhelmed with leaving him I never took an opportunity to realize this is what I love and want to do. “Thank you, Gramps. I have no idea what kind of a person I would be without you.” 

“Nice dress”, he said coyly. I nudged him on the shoulder giving him a small punch as I looked down at my skirt. I didn’t realize at the time how tired Gramps had been, his wrinkled eyes were coated with dark circles, his dirt-covered nails uncontrollably shook, and his back arched in pain as he walked. 

The next week I collected my summer clothing making sure to pack my favorite cargo shorts Gramps had bought me. It had thousands of pockets to hold my supplies. He took me to the airport carrying my luggage with him until we reached the gate. 

“I am so proud of you sunshine. You are an amazing person and I know your gentle heart will continue to help the most delicate of flowers grow,” I hugged the man who has been there for me my entire life and didn’t hesitate to make this hug longer. For some reason in my heart, I knew something was changing, I just didn’t know what yet. 

“I love you so much Gramps, I can’t thank you enough for taking me in and loving me unconditionally my whole life,” Gramps wiped a tear and let out a large sigh.

“Okay kiddo,” He patted my back, “Now you go do what you love and do it well ill see you in 10 weeks, I love you.” 

“I love you too Gramps” I grabbed my suitcase and headed off to Mexico. 

2 weeks into sweat and dirt I received a call from home. I was so excited to hear from my Gramps. With spotty cell service and work every day I barely had a chance to tell him what we've done so far, I missed him so much and I bonded off to the office to tell him. I sat in the air-conditioned office sitting down for the first time that day. I picked up the phone and immediately started talking. “Gramps! I miss you so much. I can’t tell you how much fun-”

“Emily, it's Linda,” My stomach dropped and I stood up, Linda never reached out for an opportunity to talk to me. Her voice was low and calm while I was physically sweating, this time not from the beating sun, “Henry has fallen ill, the doctors say he won’t get better and it's only a matter of time. I know you are having a nice time and got the chance to say goodbye already so I understand if you-”

“I'm coming home.” I hung up the phone and sprinted to my cabin, not double-checking that I was missing any items. On the plane ride home thoughts raced through my head. How could I have missed this? What did I not see? Did he fall or have a heart attack? This isn’t a holiday, this shouldn’t be happening. The whole flight I was in a haze, silent in my thoughts.

I slam my car door, running into the house as if my running faster could stop this from happening. This should not be happening, this is not a holiday, Gramps you are not allowed to get hurt right now. Linda sits in the living room on the couch with the only source of light coming from the television, her head hung low. As I walked in she didn’t acknowledge me, only her cigarette, taking long drags and blowing smoke into the air. A wave of anger grew inside me because she selfishly lit a cigarette, merely feet from his oxygen machine. Ignoring her I timidly walked to the bedroom, the door was partially open and all I could hear was the hum of the oxygen machine that was keeping him alive. I braced myself for whatever would happen next. Half of me expected to see the man I love with his beaming smile and the other half expected a dead body. He looked empty as if all of the life had drained out of him already. I grabbed his fragile wrinkled hand moving my thumb in circles trying to warm him back to life. I climbed into the bed being careful not to make him uncomfortable, I was terrified that the strong man I had looked up to my whole life would break in an instant. I laid there for what felt like days mad at myself. I shouldn't have left him. As much as people told me on the oncoming days that it wasn’t my fault, I know it was. Just a day ago he was smiling at me calling my dress a skirt just to get a laugh from me but I should've seen the hurt and tiredness from him. He put on a facade just so I would feel okay with leaving, but I should've noticed. I began to sob uncontrollably, my tears falling onto his sunken chest. “Don’t leave me here alone Gramps, I can’t do this without you.”

The days after Gramps death were a blur, I expected chaos of planning a funeral and callings coming in from sad relatives or concerned friends with chicken pot pie at the door but the house was quieter than ever. Linda moved as a shadow haunting the house. She planned no funeral, and never put anything in the newspaper announcing his death, she just found his will and continued smoking. I could tell she was distraught and sad but I was too exhausted to do anything about it. I didn’t leave my room, barely ate, and definitely didn’t have enough energy to shower. I needed a break and a place to breathe as well as be with Gramps. I headed to the botanical garden's special center dome. I opened the door expecting to see our beautiful blooming garden but was met with death. When I needed to see life in the world again I was met with grim decaying plants. Brittle stems with rotted leaves. I caressed the shriveled carnation and it shattered between my fingers. A fire was lit in my heart and went storming home.

I burst in threw the front door. Linda, startled, dropped her cigarette into her ashtray. “Dammit Emily”. I didn’t care if the house burnt down from that cigarette, I was furious.

“How could you?” I screamed, “His garden was the one thing he was proud of, he built it from the ground up with no help from you. You had no right to let it die,”

Linda stood up with the same fury in her eyes, “Me? Me? You're the one who knew all about the damn flowers, I couldn’t give a sh*t about them. Flowers can grow again. You didn’t come out of your room for weeks and you expect me to take the time to do something I have no idea about while I am grieving my dead husband? You inconsiderate child.”

I was burning with fury and her words just made me angrier as if every word she spoke added more gas to my fire. “You have no idea what you have done. It was the one place I knew I could go and remember him and now it's ruined, couldn’t you have continued paying the workers or told me that this was happening?” I ran an angry string of fingers through my hair, “You don’t care about Gramps enough to give him a proper funeral, let alone cherish his livelihood”. 

Linda stomped over to me, lighting a new cigarette, “You selfish child. You have done nothing in your life, everything has been provided for you. Henry spoiled you and it's made you a brat, if you care so much about it go fix it yourself!” Linda was interrupted by her next insult but a loud knock at the door.

“CPS open up” echoed behind the solid chestnut wood. 

“You called CPS on me?” Linda rushed towards the door as my mouth was left agape. A chill ran up my spine and fear suffocated my body. 

“Hello, Is this the home of Emily Walker?” The CPS worker stood tall as I shrunk in the corner.

“This is, Emily can you come here?” Linda called out to me as if I wasn’t 10 feet away in the living room. I walked towards the door and listened as the worker explained how since my legal guardian has passed I would have to enter the foster care system. Linda watched as I was taken into the car, away from my home that I have known my entire life, away from the garden we sang opera in, and away from her without saying a word. 

I spent the following month in a group home for older female teens with no word from Linda and many words from the other foster children. My world was shrunken to a twin bed and garbage bags filled with my life. I was surrounded by girls who had been in the system their entire lives and it showed. They hid their most precious items and held themselves big and strong, the little words they spoke to me were “Don’t touch my sh*t” and “Back off”. Some of the girls were more timid like me but they were just as afraid as I was so we rarely spoke. I had given up hope on any rescuing so I decided to keep my head low for the 5 months until I turn 18. I had saved up some money from working at the gardens but I was terrified to live the rest of my life alone. That's when I received a call from my caseworker.

 “Emily, begin to pack your things your grandfather had left a clause in his will and we can get you out of there and home,” confused yet excited I packed my trash bag and anxiously waited on the stairs for him to arrive. The car ride did not answer any of my questions. We sat in silence and I arrived at Gramps’s house. Linda was standing outside out in the garden, watering the carnations. As soon as she saw the car arrive she dropped the hose and ran over. To my surprise, her eyes were filled with tears and she embraced me in a shaky hug.

“I have been trying to get you back the second you left,” I eased into her hug, she wore Gramps’s sweater and his aroma filled my nose. “I am so so sorry Emily. I was in shock when they took you and I needed a way to get you back,” She took my face in her hands, “Henry and I had talked a year before he passed about what we would do to keep you safe if anything ever happened,” My eyes began to fill and relief rushed over me, “Hes still taking care of us, you will never leave again, I am yours forever now.” 

I had felt so alone in the past few weeks and she has no idea what this meant to me. The only words I could get out between the tears was a hushed “Thank you, Linda,”

“Oh my goodness there's something else,” She grabbed my hand and we headed into her pickup truck. She pulled her sweater off and started the engine and there, on her upper arm, was a nicotine patch. 

“Are you quitting?” I asked poking the clear square.

“I’ve been too busy to smoke,” she turned with a smile “You’ll see”.

Before I knew it we were pulling into Gramps’s garden, filled with light. As soon as we stopped, I ripped off my seatbelt and bolted for the center dome. I was met with life. Greenery climbing towards the skylight and an abundance of flowers. I headed towards our bench to find it missing, replaced with a stone header that read: Here lies Henry Walker, grandfather, friend, lover of nature. My heart swelled, he was here, everywhere. The one place I came to be alone was finally filled with his company. I turned to see Linda and ran towards her embrace. Life in the up-and-coming years would not be easy. But as long as Gramps was with us we knew in our hearts it would all be okay. Linda quit smoking and I quit my attitude toward her. I finally realized her family wasn't so bad, they were funny. I can't imagine another family that cares about me so deeply.