Rusty Bucket Farm

[Mother of Chaos]

I lost my dad yesterday.



He was a great lover of nature, plants, gardening, landscaping. He planted host plants for my daughter and I to raise different butterfly and moth species. He filled our great big yard with fruit and shade trees. And he left us a tin of seeds for this spring.

He was the one who let me know the days were finally getting longer. We had plans for springtime. Or, I thought we did.

His mental health caught up with him. My old life is over. I hope something good grows back.

I love you, Dad.

I’m so sorry. He sounds like a wonderful, and very human, guy.

I hope you’ll be able to carry through with some of your springtime plans.

 

[lightm]

I lost my dad yesterday.















He was a great lover of nature, plants, gardening, landscaping. He planted host plants for my daughter and I to raise different butterfly and moth species. He filled our great big yard with fruit and shade trees. And he left us a tin of seeds for this spring.

He was the one who let me know the days were finally getting longer. We had plans for springtime. Or, I thought we did.

His mental health caught up with him. My old life is over. I hope something good grows back.

I love you, Dad.

I am so sorry. My condolence! I hope you will get comfort from your family, your garden, and your chickens.

 

[AntiqueB]

I'm so sorry.

 

[CoopBoots]

When I say I appreciate all the kind words, I realize it sounds so hollow. But please believe me. I mean it. Thank you from the bottom of my broken heart.

As I sit with this thing, it reminds me of being in labor. Waves of agony followed by brief bursts of forgetfulness or even joy. Some small thing (there were SO MANY) around the house he'd fixed for me, my husband, or the kids. The plates I used to take him supper. The mugs he'd use for tea when I could convince him to come in and visit with us. The unfinished Christmas puzzle still in my living room that we gave him to do with us. It was probably 75 percent done. There's still a piece I remember that he was frustrated by and couldn't find--that I still cannot find either.

Im gonna frame that puzzle and if im missing pieces, I don't care. I'll finish it as best i can.

And that is like my life. He's missing and I can't replace him. Things are left unfinished, unsaid. And we just have to go on the best we can.

I plan to go and take pictures. As many things as I can remember, especially his plants. I've forgotten so much he told me about what he was growing and why. But I want to document what I can here and give thanks again for each of them. They will be beautiful this spring and will continue to grow, even though he's gone. Just like us.

We are his legacy and we are going to thrive.

God bless everyone who is having a mournful Christmas and New Year. I finally understand and I join my sorrow with yours. We can get through this together. Life will be different, but still worth living. Just a very different, and yes, harder, chapter of your story. But see it through!!! See it through. Joy will come again like the spring.

 

[fuzzi]

I lost my dad yesterday.















He was a great lover of nature, plants, gardening, landscaping. He planted host plants for my daughter and I to raise different butterfly and moth species. He filled our great big yard with fruit and shade trees. And he left us a tin of seeds for this spring.

He was the one who let me know the days were finally getting longer. We had plans for springtime. Or, I thought we did.

His mental health caught up with him. My old life is over. I hope something good grows back.

I love you, Dad.

I'm so sorry.

I lost my dad in 2022. I still miss him.