Your garden is lonely without you. And so am I

April 3

Dear Perel,

I hope you are doing well. My day was uneventful. I made dinner tonight, but I’ll never be half as good a cook as you were. Mrs. Silverman has been dropping off dinners, and she makes your meatball recipe, but it doesn’t taste right without fresh basil from your garden.

I’ve been watering the plants for you, just like you asked. They’re all doing nicely, except the begonias, but you always talked about how finicky they are. The peonies and tulips in the backyard are starting to bloom, and the lilacs will open any day now. I wish you were here to see them.

With love,

Gershon

April 9

Dear Perel,

I got a new chavrusa. His name is Yaakov Weinberg, and he moved here with his family a short while ago. He looks about 30 years old, but I can’t really tell. He had a hard time finding a chavrusa who would work with his busy schedule. I’m never busy, with only the garden to care for, so I offered to learn with him.

The garden is really coming along nicely. The lilacs are blooming now, and the daisies won’t be far behind. The orchids and hibiscus are looking a little droopy, but I know you said indoor plants always get jealous in the springtime. I couldn’t save the poor begonia. I guess my thumbs have not become green, as I’d hoped they would. Still, I weeded the garden and trimmed the rosebushes yesterday, and I’ll water the succulents tomorrow.

I think the herbs are lonely without you. The mint leaves are smaller and the rosemary isn’t so tall anymore. They’re not the only ones who are lonely. I keep myself busy gardening and learning, but it still feels strangely quiet without you. The neighbors have been nice. For all the people who drop in, you’d think we had 30 children instead of four.

Chani Grossman came over with her little son this morning. I can’t believe that she’s a mother already. I remember exactly when she was born — on that Friday before our 40th anniversary. I remember you standing in the kitchen making cupcakes for the kiddush two hours before Shabbos, and I remember our granddaughters begging to hold the baby all Shabbos long. If I could, I would go back and live those days over again, all of us together and happy. I know it’s clichéd, the old man longing for the good old days, but I guess things become clichéd for a reason.

With all my love,

Gershon