THE AVID GARDENER - A Love Story - Conclusion - This story is dedicated to my wife.

The old man began humming to himself as he put on his overalls and then went out to the garden shed, which was located near the corner of their small house.  Before he went inside to fetch the spade, he gazed up at the sky; the moon shining brightly with a host of twinkling stars; in all his 99 years, they had never ceased to amaze him.  He wondered, Some people believed: when a person’s soul passes on, they become a star, and if this was the case, the brightest star shining in the heavens this night was his wife.  He looked at the garden they both tended over the years; like their love for one another, it always flourished.  The house lights shining through the large patio windows cast a warm glow across the garden; plenty of light to dig and build a mound for the seeds to sprout, their tendrils stretching further and further, producing  round orange pumpkins, elongated yellowish squash and cylindrical dark-green cucumbers.

At 99 years of age, the old man, although still incredibly strong, just wasn’t able to work for long stretches of time.  He had to stop and take short breaks until he caught his breath and this is what he did all through the night, until finally, the last stone was in place and banked with rich loam.  His back and every joint in his body ached when he’d finished and as he stood back, rubbing his hip with his bony fingers, casting a long shadow over the mound, he was pleased with what he’d accomplished.

As the old man looked thoughtfully at the silent mound, he remembered the first time he and his wife made love.  They were engaged to be married in a few weeks and had agreed that she remain a virgin until their wedding night.  However, the day it occurred was much like yesterday; it was summer and the air was warm and glowing.  He had been working in the garden pulling weeds, digging, raking and poking seeds into the warm earth with his grimy fingers.  His shirt was off; sweat pouring from his brow and under his arms, when she suddenly appeared standing over him.  When he looked up at her smiling, mischievous face she said, “You’re very dirty.  I think you need a bath!” and upon saying that, sprayed him full blast in the face with the garden hose.

Before she could get away, her soon to be husband grabbed her by the ankle and began grappling for the hose.  She laughed loudly as she continued to spray him in the face with water.  However, before long, his strength began to change the battle for the hose and it was soon pointed at her.  She laughed even harder as he soaked her from head to toe.  Long strands of hair were pasted to her face as they wrestled for the hose and rolled about like playful children in the soft earth, which was rapidly turning into mud.  Finally, their chests heaving, legs and arms entwined in a mucky mess, they looked into each other’s eyes and knew this was the moment; they were so much in love.  When he picked her up in his arms, she didn’t resist.  She clung to him, her head on his shoulder as he carried her into the house and up a flight of stairs.  When he kicked the bedroom door open and tossed her onto the bed, she coquettishly exclaimed, a wild glint in her eyes, “What a man!”

So many good memories the old man thought, as he made his way to the garden shed to get the seeds.  When he returned, he got down on his knees and began planting them in tiny holes, which he carefully made and spaced appropriately with his index finger.  When the planting was complete, he rocked back and forth on his knees.  Tears were flowing down his cheeks as he looked at his newly dug mound, which had turned out to be a little larger and higher than planned.  Overcome with emotion, he suddenly stretched out; wrapping his arms around the mound and feeling the warm embrace of the soft earth against his body he whispered, “I love you Sarah.”