The end

In October, life took a firm grip on my family, and released my mother to eternity.


This post is in memory of my mother, who was an amazing gardener. Her garden was a universe of life, programmed to live and die in cycles, and while doing it, to throw cascades of colours, shapes, light and shadow, or to simply whisper softly about nature’s brilliance.

Past autumn, I had the chance to follow her garden gradually close down and prepare itself for winter. We as a family had the chance to gather and be with her in her last days, to support her and each other, as we said goodbye. Something about her open, calm and accepting attitude gave me comfort. Still in her very last days and hours, she taught me something about life.

Pain and harmony, in one.

Why am I even trying to put words on it?

The first afternoon without my mother, I walked – again – the paths of her garden. The image above speaks to me about what a family is, at its very best: a place to give and receive support.

Below a few other October views from her garden, which stretches into the woods. I took some photos with the iPad, to be able to bring the garden to her bed. But she was too tired, and I realised that it was now beyond her. She had let go of her garden. And here I am, with the feeling I want to stay in it, forever.


I’ve also been sharing photos from her garden on Instagram with the tag #enavtusenträdgårdar. Due to the distance, I am not able to follow all months and seasons, but I know that every visit back I’ll be wandering those paths again.


24 thoughts on “The end

  1. I think gardening is the ultimate form of painting – and your mother was a sublime artist. She’s left you with something infinitely precious and beautiful that will go on and on. Your pictures of the garden through autumn days are so lovely, and so poignant. There is so much love here, in this garden and in your words and pictures. Thank you.

    • Thank you! I don’t think my mother ever considered herself an artist, but I do agree with you, she was. Nothing in her garden was there without a reason, or without a story. And it still speaks, for itself.

  2. What a beautiful post, and moving tribute to your mother. I’m so sorry for your loss. Wishing you peace, and thanking you for sharing your mother’s wisdom. The idea of her garden stretching into the woods is a lovely one. In sympathy, Josna

    • Thank you so much Linda! I wasn’t sure whether to share this at all, but I think it helps me to move on. And until next time I can visit the garden, I’ll revisit the photos I have… Again, thanks!

  3. I’m sorry to hear of your sad loss G . Your Mother sounds like she was an amazing lady . The cycle of nature with renewal in the garden will keep her near to you I’m sure x

    • You say something there, “the cycle of nature will keep her near”. Yes, I think it will. It goes beyond her garden, it’s about nature itself. Thanks Poppy! And in case you didn’t realise, I think you’re pretty amazing yourself, always that clear view on things.

  4. So wonderful that your mother left you with this wonderful gift that remains even though she has passed on. As others have said, she sounds like she was a very special woman. My condolences on your loss.

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