I’ve been a member of a book group for twenty-five years. A few friends and I started it when our girls were in kindergarten together. Others have come and gone, but we have always kept it going. Over the years we have shared births, graduations, divorce, marriages, grave illness, addictions, and deaths as well as many, many wonderful books. Of course through all of that we have come to know each other’s extended families as well. Over the weekend I learned that the mother-in-law of one of our members passed away. She was someone I had gotten to know since we shared a love of flowers and gardening, and also because she had worked with my husband many years ago. In the past we have acknowledged the death of an extended family member by purchasing a book for the community library. But this time her daughter-in-law suggested that perhaps we visit a garden and each purchase a plant for our own gardens to celebrate her life.
I thought that was a perfect idea! All of us in book group have gardens of one type or another, and we have shared cuttings and freely given advice and help to each other when needed. One of our book group members commented once that looking at the different flowers in her garden always reminded her of the friends who gave them to her. She said it was like margin notes in a book – she could hear their voices. I wrote that down in my writer’s notebook.
I thought that was a perfect idea! All of us in book group have gardens of one type or another, and we have shared cuttings and freely given advice and help to each other when needed. One of our book group members commented once that looking at the different flowers in her garden always reminded her of the friends who gave them to her. She said it was like margin notes in a book – she could hear their voices. I wrote that down in my writer’s notebook.
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