by Julie Wood

Created on: October 29, 2007   Last Updated: February 13, 2009

"Plant with a light heart and a heavy foot." Those are the words my two young daughters repeat every time we plant something new in our garden. It is the advice of their Great Grandfather, passed on by his son, their Grandfather. They have heard these words many times. Every tree, every shrub, every tender young shoot is welcomed into our garden with the same sage advice.

Each year Grandad comes to stay with us. He loves the sun and the warmth of the Wisconsin summers and splits his time between soaking up the sun's rays and toiling in the flower beds. The bane of of our borders is a nasty, invasive shrub, Buckthorne. It spreads constantly, and relentlessly. Fortunately Grandad is not one to give in! For two weeks each year he wages war on his Nemesis. Digging, chopping and ripping it from the ground. He is tireless in his efforts, determined in his goal, retiring only when satisfied with his progress, to enjoy a long cold beer in the shade of the deck. Immediately, his clean up team springs into action. Two eager little girls dragging towering branches twice their size and dirty stumps that leave a trail of black dirt across the lawn.

Rest time is quickly over. there is no time to lose. Before the nasty incidious weed has time to regroup, the girls are eager to complete stage two, planting. With their dirt encrusted crocs and their faded garden gloves they drag the hose snaking across the lawn to the freshly cleared spot, ready to quench the thirst of their treasured new plant. They know the importance of a well dug hole, properly ammended soil and the benefits of a firm foot. They place the plant, fill the whole and under Grandads watchful gaze tramp around the plant with a smile. "Plant with a light heart and a heavy foot!" they chant.

This is the mantra by which we plant. Sometimes those small feet can stamp a little heavily. Possibly a few plants suffer along the way. However, to keep alive a small part of our family history, those minor casualties are worth it. It brings a smile to my face every time I hear those words. Fond memories of days gone by come flooding into my mind and I like to imagine that my own daughters will one day smile at the sound of their children or grandchildren repeating the wise words of generations of gardeners past.

I hope that their light hearts will fill their gardens with the beautiful sights, smells and textures that I hold so dear and that once in a while they will remember fondly the generations of gardeners who passed on that advice. Their firm feet connect them to the earth, tucking those tender roots deep into the soil and giving the latest addition to our family's little world a connection to our history.

We live on in the hearts and memories of those we loved and sometimes that reach extends and connects us to the hearts and lives of those we would have loved if we had the chance.

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