My mother, Martha, passed away three years ago this coming October from pancreatic cancer.

It was only four short months from her initial diagnosis to her funeral service, after they had been happily married for fifty one years.

After she passed away, I honestly thought Dad would let the large garden go.

I figured he might sell the family home and move into one of those modern senior apartments near the town square that feature small concrete patios and shuffleboard courts.

He did no such thing.