Lost Gardens?

Much has been written about the benefits of gardening itself when dealing with grief — the physical activity, the time outdoors, the quiet focus of practical tasks. Less attention is given to the garden in it’s own right, and how difficult it can feel to re-engage with it following a bereavement.

I understand how easy it is for a garden to slip away after a loss. The person who did the lion’s share of the physical work, or who acted as the director; knowing which plant was which, is no longer there. Without that momentum, weeds take over once-cared-for borders, shrubs get out of hand and vegetable patches disappear.

For the person left behind, this adds a layer of 'visual guilt' to an already difficult time. Looking out onto a garden that was once beautiful, but now feels overwhelming, can be hard, especially when motivation or ability is limited.

At recent Flower Shows, we’ve seen 'grief gardens' designed to symbolise the journey through bereavement, or quiet seating areas for reflection. They are beautiful metaphors, but perhaps miss something of the messier reality where a garden can stop being a sanctuary and start feeling like a burden.

People are sometimes embarrassed to ask for help — either by the garden itself, or by a feeling that they should still be able to manage it alone. But from a practical point of view, gardens in this situation are rarely as bad as they appear. The underlying structure is usually still there, shaped by years of care, even if it’s currently hidden. And there really is no shame in asking for help with it.

If you or someone you know, are finding it difficult to manage a garden, and would a helping hand getting things back into shape, you are very welcome to get in touch.