The Arbor

Years ago while browsing through an old Southern Living magazine I saw an arbor covered with Confederate Jasmine with pink roses intertwined. It was beautiful. When I showed it to Willis he agreed. The rose was described as an old type bush that was immune to a lot of the diseases that plague the newer strands today. Willis decided to build a similar arbor for the area around our back entry. He drew the plans and after several weekends it was ready to be painted. The next thing was to plant the jasmine and rose bush. Finding the jasmine was no problem and he soon had it planted and thriving on either side of the arbor. The rose bush was another matter. I couldn't find the magazine again to check on the type of rose featured so we decided to forego it.

The jasmine covered the arbor completely in a year or so and had to be trimmed quite often. The tiny blossoms have wonderful fragrances that fill the area with their sweet aroma each time they bloom. Willis kept the vine under control until his health no longer permitted him to do the work he loved.

Our daughter Cathy and her husband Doug took over the project for Willis. Doug built the banisters and he and Cathy soon had them painted and ready for use. The banisters were a tremendous help to Willis when he used the back steps on his many trips to the doctor.

Shortly afterwards Doug laid a brick pad at the foot of the steps. It made such a difference in the appearance of the entryway. Willis had planted the pink spirea shrubs several years before and, when they were watered, the area in front of the steps became slippery. The pad remedied that problem immediately.

Willis was always in his element when he was working with flowers or vegetables. He had a green thumb. I didn't. My job was that of "gofer." I sat and watched as he mixed the soil and planted the different flowers explaining the process as he went along. I suppose he had hopes of me learning the art of gardening. Sadly, I didn't but fortunately Cathy did. She has her father's love of flowers and patience in planting them. Mama once told me, "Willis will never die as long as Cathy lives." It's true. She is as much like him as a daughter could be and now I can see so many of Willis' traits in Lauren, our granddaughter.

I did contribute to the watering after the planting but Willis kept an eye on me even then. I have a heavy hand and tend to over water. Houseplants faced the kiss of death when I was left in charge. A friend of ours once jokingly said that she would find me a Cast Iron Plant because you couldn't kill them. I proved her wrong. I killed more plants than you can imagine. I finally decided to spare the poor things a lingering death and turned them over to Willis. In a short time they would be standing tall and straight, green and proud or blooming their little heads off. I have to admit that it did annoy the hound out of me at times.

Willis loved to "ride around" on weekends and we did that often. I never knew where we were going but we would invariably end up on unpaved roads somewhere in the rural area around Kershaw. There aren't a lot of dirt roads left in our area but if there was one in a fifty-mile radius he would find it. As we were cruising along on one outing he stopped suddenly, turned around, drove back down the road and stopped.

"Look at that old screen door," he said, pointing toward an old house sitting back off the road and surrounded by oak trees.

I hadn't even noticed the house. I looked at the door and it was pretty but I wondered what he had in mind. When we got home he grabbed a tablet and began sketching. The door we saw was a single one but he drew double doors. He wanted to use them at the back entry. He had a friend in Camden who could build anything you wanted if you gave him a sketch. It wasn't long before Willis had his doors. Next he was sanding, painting and adding the screens. It took a few weekends but he worked with them the way he always did with any project he undertook. He soon had them hanging and was so proud of the way they looked. So much so he decided to get a single one made for our side door.

There are so many memories linked to the photographs shown above and they all come rushing back when I look at them now. It reminds me of a quote that I use on this blog.

"A house is made of walls and beams,

  a home is built with love and dreams."

   

The author of this quote is unknown but, whoever he or she was, knew what made a happy home.