By Tammy Thornton
Have you ever instantly felt a connection to someone? You meet them and tell yourself, “I’m going to be friends with that person.” Well, for me, that happened even before I met Esther. A friend knew about my love of gardening and told me I have to meet her neighbor. Well, believe it or not, from the moment I heard her name, something stirred within me that knew Esther was going to become a special person in my life.
When I think of my friend Esther, I picture her working in her beautiful Sunset Avenue garden while her dog Toto stayed by her side ready to help dig a hole or chase a bunny. Esther loved her little white Cairn Terrier, who probably helped her feel a connection to her Scottish homeland. Historically, Cairn Terriers are from the Scottish Highlands and the Isle of Skye. Esther came to America from Paisley, Scotland, with her mother and siblings after the death of her father, and she always longed to return to the fields and farmlands of Scotland. So, in kinship with that energetic little dog, she treated her like royalty. But that little princess could get dirty. One day, while Esther and I were moving a tree, little Toto got in the spirit of things and started digging her way to middle earth. We got a big laugh from this junior gardener that had saved us a bit of work that day.
Laughter was a common theme in my friendship with Esther. Though we also shared each others’ tears when life hit us hard, we enjoyed laughing at ourselves and our gardening mishaps. We would both chuckle after a drive down Shore Road reminded us of the huge spirea bushes we moved to her rental property. In the spring, everyone could see how the delicate white flowers cascaded to give the beautiful bushes their name bridal veil. But all Esther and I could think of was how we had lifted those heavy plants in and out of the wheelbarrow while bumping into each other and standing ankle deep in mud. We loved to laugh at the antics of Beverley Nichols in his book, Down the Garden Path, which were altogether relatable.
Esther taught me a lot about gardening and life. Her lines of boxwood were meticulous and her roots were planted deep. But interspersed with gardening knowledge, Esther would gently share her tidbits from life lessons. Having lost her beloved husband to sickness as a mother with a beautiful young daughter, Esther reminded me how blessed I was to have my husband by my side. The difference in our ages never mattered in our friendship; she had experienced the good, bad, and ugly of the years, and would share nuggets of wisdom that she had learned along the way. It reminds me of the Bible verse that talks about the older women teaching the younger. We shared a love for New Dawn roses, the wall on her property with climbing roses, and old gardening books. We also shared a love for cooking and baking, and Esther was often known as “the lady who bakes”. She taught me about caring for people. Often, she couldn’t talk the night before a doctor’s appointment or visit from the landscaper, because she was too busy baking cookies to give to them. She would spend days preparing for a yearly event at the Cape May Bird Observatory (CMBO), baking a table full of goodies for the staff to enjoy, including naturalist and author Peter Dunne, the Director of CMBO at the time. My family often benefited from leftover baked goods and bottles of ginger ale she had prepared for workers coming to her house. She once asked my older son to dig some holes for her. I was upset that she insisted on paying him, and he said, “I would have done it just for the cookies and lemonade!” Everyone loved her cookies and cakes and she always had a spirit of giving. But she was not good at receiving gifts. I would try to give her things and make it my goal to leave her house with less than I brought her, but usually failed. Eventually, I learned that her language of love was food and she would accept my lemon bars or a rosemary plant that she could use to make her rosemary lemon chicken. In turn, we would exchange chocolate cakes for our May birthdays and she would often share her garden with me. I’m blessed that parts of her garden live on at my house.
When I look around my backyard, I’m surrounded by memories of Esther. From the purple asters blooming now in the fall, to the towering pink and white phlox giving their last show, Esther’s garden has hopped a few blocks and found its way to my house as well as those in the neighborhood. She grew enormous hydrangeas and would start new ones from cuttings that she called “sticks” and would share those with me as well, teaching me how to propagate my own. I love my pure white Meidiland roses from her, combined with the lavender-blue flowers of catmint (nepeta). Some of the most unusual plants we shared were the evening primroses. They look a bit haggard by day but like Cinderella, transform in the evening and unfurl their petals to reveal stunning yellow flowers with an enticing scent. True to her thoughtful and giving nature, in her final days Esther made sure that a mutual friend and I had something special to remember her by. We both received a Colette rose to plant in our own gardens in her memory and honor. This spring will bring a bittersweet sight when its fragrant soft pink flowers bloom in May. Goodbye, my dear friend, thank you for sharing your garden and life with me. I can’t imagine the amazing gardens you must be cultivating in Heaven. Until we meet again…
Tammy Thornton is a mom of four, a substitute teacher, and a Sunday school teacher. She is passionate about gardening and cooking, and loves the beach.
