Gardening is my father. Gardening is jumping into the back of his car as a child, driving to Home Depot, and picking out seeds. Gardening is counting down the days until it is warm enough to plant outdoors. Gardening is picking cherry tomatoes in the Summer and eating them by the handful. Most of all, gardening is spending time with those I love.

My father wasn’t the first gardener in our family. His mother, like him, was an avid grower and, to this day, maintains a well-groomed patch in her yard, despite her age. Gardening, in other words, is a family affair – something that she taught him, and he, in turn, taught me. 

As I get older, I have come to see that gardening does not have to be something done exclusively with others. Growing up, it was almost always a joint activity – something that I loved to do with my father every year more than just about anything. During this yearly ritual, though, I never quite grasped how much work it was – I merely helped when I wanted to and reaped the rewards at the end, as many children do.

Now, I am 21 years old. I no longer live with my father, but with four friends in Washington, DC. None of them are gardeners. 

At first, the idea of planting and maintaining a garden alone seemed rather daunting. Every year of my life, I have helped my father grow a garden, so it seemed only right that I, despite no longer living with him, would do the same. Gardening, after all, is so much more than a hobby for me. It is a passion – something that will be a part of who I am for the rest of my life. 

But the fact remained – if I were to grow a garden, it would have to be a solo task. I would have to drive to Home Depot alone, pick out seeds alone, plant them alone, and reap my harvest not for a family, but for myself.

And I will say, I certainly struggled with this. Not only was I alone responsible for my plants (peppers and herbs, mostly), but the hot and humid Summer weather in DC did not treat them kindly. As I do not have a backyard, but a deck, I found myself relying on pots, a rather difficult situation given the nearly constant 90+ degree heat. 

Some of my plants died – this was a fairly new concept to me, something that disheartened me quite a bit. I would almost go so far as to say that I was distraught when I returned to DC after two weeks away, realizing that I had forgotten to ask my housemates to water my plants.

Nevertheless, I tried again. I saved one of my pepper plants and planted more Thyme, Rosemary, and Basil. This time, I was determined to succeed, and I did just that.

The first thing that this season taught me about gardening is that, although it does not have to be, it can be difficult. It can be disheartening to struggle and watch your plants wilt without knowing what you could possibly be doing wrong. I have always considered myself a gardener – a near lifelong one, at that. I have been digging my hands into dirt since I could barely walk, and planting a garden with my father is, to this day, one of my fondest memories. It is for this reason that the failures of this season – my first solo one – hit particularly hard. 

That being said, after my plants died, I certainly could have given up. I almost did. But I decided to try again. This, I believe, was a turning point, both for my garden and for myself.

By choosing to try again, I accepted that, though I had failed, that did not mean that I was a bad gardener or that my years of gardening with my father were all for nothing. Growing on my own for the first time was daunting – don’t get me wrong – but it was also invigorating. To do something by yourself, for yourself, is truly the best self-care that something can provide. 

Throughout the pandemic, I think that I, among others, have often felt that there are few things in the world that I can control. The food industry that I aspired to work in has, in many ways, collapsed. Its future, though still bright in some ways, is incredibly uncertain. While this has been disheartening, it has also forced me to embrace uncertainty in ways I had typically shied away from prior to the pandemic.  

Moreover, in a time when uncertainty is the norm, it is essential that we find points of stability in our lives. This, for me, has been gardening. 

Not only has my garden provided a sense of stability during these uncertain times, but, even more so, it has allowed me to have, quite literally, near complete control over something. The ability to watch something grow from seed to full-fledged plant, then to eat the rewards of your time and effort, is truly one of the most empowering feelings in the world. 

Prior to this season, I do not think that I could have said with certainty that I, like my father, would be a lifelong gardener. Now, though, I can say with confidence that I am not the first gardener in my family, and I will not be the last.