Love, Mom

Cherry tree in our back yard

Right outside my kitchen window I see a beautiful cherry tree, covered in fragrant white flowers. When Lisa was a little girl, she and her dad planted a handful of Bing cherry pits bought at the local grocery store. Amazingly, six germinated. Smokey, our Siberian Husky, ate four of the seedlings and the fifth one died.  But the last one survived. How wonderful it was to watch that tree, and Lisa’s love of nature, grow. Even though we lived in the northwest suburbs of Chicago, Lisa found a small chapter of Future Farmers of America and joined through a horticulture class offered in high school. 

Lisa never relinquished her desire to place seeds in the ground.  Her first garden was a few square feet of earth in our backyard. Along with the cherry pits she planted marigolds, petunias, and a tomato plant.  And in every home she had thereafter, one would find a garden.  Lisa asked the landlord of her first apartment if she could plant a few flowers in the public courtyard. Even in this tiny bit of soil she fed her need to plant and watch things grow.  In her next three homes, the gardens expanded to include vegetables, flowers, and shrubs. 

Right outside Lisa’s kitchen window at Untah’s Farm I see her largest garden yet- 5,000 square feet!  It is teeming with organically composted rich soil in which strawberries, cucumbers, beans, tomatoes, onions, peppers, spinach, squash, raspberries, rhubarb, garlic, pumpkins and herbs thrive.   Lisa reads seed catalogs in the same way I might read a love story.  She mentions that her garden is her sanctuary; a place to unwind, to ponder, to refresh her soul.

Lisa and Gus

When I think about Lisa’s childhood filled with her love of all living things I also remember the animals. Along with the family pets - two dogs, parakeets and a rabbit - kittens, gerbils, and hamsters seemed to “follow her home.” In elementary school her fifth grade class hatched eggs and Lisa volunteered to adopt one of the Mallard ducks. Neighbors were astounded and amused as Lisa walked Gus around the block tethered to a cat leash.  As part of her Animal Behavior class in high school she brought rats home during winter break. As part of her biology class various mammals and reptiles came home as dissection homework.

Untah’s Farm lies in one of the most beautiful areas of Wisconsin.  The rolling hills lead to the bluffs overlooking the Mississippi River and I can see for miles when I sit on Lisa’s deck, rocking in the chair her father made. I smell the garden, that warm, green, earthy smell I remember from my own childhood when I stood in my grandpa’s garden. I hear the bees by the pond, and watch the dogs playing before they finally come up the stairs and lie at my feet.

I wave to a neighbor as he drives by, the only car to pass in an afternoon. This is heaven, I think, and how happy I am that Lisa and her family have found the exact place they were meant to be - Untah’s Farm.

I would like to share a poem I gave Lisa for Mother's Day in 1996.

Dear Lisa,

You encourage your daughters to experience the world:

 ...to peer into rain puddles, and then jump in!

 ...to carve October's jack-o-lanterns grown from April's

    seeds.

 ...to touch fragile treasures with tiny fingers while learning the

    meaning of "gentle."

...to speak with authority in private syllables knowing you

   understand.

In your arms your babies find the warmth and security that will embrace them throughout their lives.  You provide them a model of womanhood to emulate:  honest, hard-working, nurturing, loving. What better gift could a mother receive than to witness her daughter's becoming such a wonderful mother?  Happy Mother's Day, Lisa.  I love and admire you.

Love, Mom