Zinnia Seeds

My beloved grandfather passed away. He was 90, and I'm grateful for the years we had together, but I'm so sad that he's gone.

Losing my Grandad is losing another piece of my mother seven years later. The world is a darker place without him in it.

My Grandad, forever in his plaid shirts. Telling stories of his childhood, of my mother's childhood, adoring my grandmother. Embracing technology. Always growing something. Traveling the world for as long as his health allowed. Researching family history. Proudly supporting planned parenthood, women's rights, and the democratic party. Doing crossword puzzles and taking photos. He was forever a family man, he loved all of us with a generous spirit and his quirky sense of humor. He had a special bond with my boys, one of my favorite memories ever is Oliver and Grandad playing a game of checkers on Grandad's 90th birthday. Grandad had a gift for finding things in common with each of his grandkids and spent time fostering those shared interests, even from far away.

We shared a love of all Apple products, Nikon cameras, painting, seafood, the Arts section NYT, and most of all - gardening. Vegetable gardening, perennial flowers in the yard. As a master gardener, his advice and encouragement over the past decade has been invaluable to me. He bought me my first seed starting light and taught me how to sow tomatoes indoors from seed. He advised me on what to do about garden pests, how to best water, the benefits of native plants over non-native plants. He taught me about fertilizers, how to handle a knock-out rosebush, when to plant what. Even at 90, he sent me pictures of his balcony container garden of tomatoes and flowers this past summer. You can take the man out of the garden but you can't take the gardener out of the man.

Our house is full of my grandparents generosity. From furniture to their time, learning how to pour cement, how to dig up sod, how to plant trees, loving and spoiling our boys. It's full of happy memories and of their affection.

Every February, zinnia seeds would show up in the mail from him. Sometimes with other seeds to try (radishes, carrots, lettuces, flowers), but without fail every year zinnia seeds would come. A token of love, thoughtfulness and hope for spring from my grandfather and fellow gardener.

This year I will have to order my own. And I will. And I will do so every year going forward, because planting zinnia seeds every year will remind me of him.

I will tend my gardens and my children, my future grandchildren the way he tended to me - with an open and generous heart, unfailing spirit and endless patience for cultivating a lifelong relationship.

Sometimes zinnia seeds are so much more than just seeds.