The Carry - On

It was a glorious morning, one of those perfect early summer mornings with plenty of sun and just the right touch of a sweetly scented breeze. My husband was outside watering our abundance of brightly coloured flowers. He was looking all relaxed barefoot in his shorts and without a shirt. I was happy to see him checking on our garden before he was to take off on a 5 day short trip to Nevada to visit his mother and two younger brothers for their mother's 90th Birthday. At this point in the juncture, the trip was sure to be fraught with emotional challenges and tensions, dealing with a mother in denial about her age and how that stubbornness weighed down and frustrated her three sons. To see my husband Michael walk around his garden was touching, it was clear he'd just as soon stay home, as from previous experiences his mother rarely listened to his and his brothers' solid advice on matters of diet, socialization and money. Issues with her were resolved at a snail's pace. The whole thing over the years reminded me of a noir western. But, for now, Michael was happily eying his sunflowers growing steadily taller in the heat. He was pleased with the progress of growth of the squash and cucumber and tomatoes, beans and snap peas. The Fuchsia and Morning Glory were multiplying in blossoms it seemed each day, looking like brightly coloured jewels mixed in with the fruit bushes and veggies. Michael was walking around all the flowers watering each flower and plant lovingly, like he was taking leave of them until he was to return on Friday. It made me smile. Thinking of this garden would get him through the possible rough spots of his visit. Michael is not a man of many words, but the way he was taking leave of his garden this morning was like watching a silent lovely dance, imbued with spiritual light and feeling. I will remember it always. My husband came in and changed into his casual traveling pants, shirt and leather coat. He put on his socks and shoes, grabbed his carry- on bag, put on his Husky hat and kissed me and hugged our son as he went out the door, where the air porter transport bus would whisk him away to the airport. A part of Michael would stay, and it would be with my son and I, but it would most certainly be walking in his garden until his return, and that is where I would find him each day during watering hours in the morning and at night.