Just as the author and her husband buy an acre property just
outside downtown Toronto, her father dies. This doesn’t make much of a
difference in Risen’s life; in her entire life he has hardly ever spoken to
her. He didn’t ignore her; he would work on projects with her- silently. That
was pretty much their only interaction. It wasn’t that he couldn’t speak; her parents
had long, loud arguments all the time. Her mother, always working in the garden
or putting food by, is now alone and getting fragile, and has always preferred
Risen’s older sister; she also almost never spoke to her younger daughter. The
restoration of their new house and property, a chunk of a former large estate,
is narrated concurrently with Risen’s quest to understand her parents.
The reason that the author was so taken by this rundown and
overgrown piece of property is that it’s on a ravine and is like a piece of
forest in the urban setting. As a child, she would escape into the forested
ravine behind her house, spending hours there away from her parents, who
apparently didn’t care that she was never home. It’s also a challenge, I
suspect; if she can make this garden beautiful and orderly, maybe her gardener
mother will finally think her worthy of love and attention. Sadly, over the ten
years of so it takes to renovate the acre, her mother has a stroke and then
develops dementia. Despite Risen’s insistence that she get on a plane and
visit, she will never see this piece of property. But when the author and her
sister clean out her mother’s place as she is moved to a home, they find a
cache of old papers- papers that may hold some answers to her questions about
her immigrant parent’s origins.
I really felt for the author; like her, my now dead parents
are a deep mystery. Unlike her, there is no folder of hints or clues, but her
search for answers struck a chord with me. The urge to know where one came from
is, I think, fairly universal, and to have parents who never speak of the past
leaves a hole in one’s heart. I’m also an avid gardener, and would love to have
a property with old oaks, a redwood, a spring fed pond, and an old falling down
pagoda. I understand the amount of work it would take to bring a place like
that back into orderliness, although I have no comprehension of the amount of money
it took them with all that they hired to have done- had the concrete pagoda
rebuilt, professional arborists, landscape designers, a pool installed- their place
is the proverbial money pit.
Risen does remember her mother’s lessons on wildcrafting;
each chapter ends with a recipe or craft done with plants from the land. Risen
also chronicles her son growing up; he’s not very much into gardening-he’s a
computer kid- but he does enjoy the paths and the pond, wildlife, and some of
the crafts. The garden provides them with ways to be closer.
The story is bookended by deaths; the author’s father begins
it and her mother’s ends it. Risen has not found the answers she wanted, but
she has learned some of what made them who they were. And she feels they did,
as my mother said she did, ‘the best they could’. I really liked the book, even
though I found the author frustrating at times as she had moments of
immaturity. I stayed up nights reading it, and thinking about it when I was out
gardening.
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neither of these things influenced my review.