My Great-Aunt Betty Craft loved flowers and gardens. Having never learned to drive and with health issues that made driving not such a good idea anyway, Aunt Betty spent most of her days taking care of her plants and flowers in and around her Southern California home.

Some of my most cherished childhood memories are of spending time in Aunt Betty's back garden, which I always imagined as a place where fairies loved to dance.

Aunt Betty would walk from flowerbed to bush to row of pots, telling me about each plant and bloom. She proudly showed me colorful roses, azaleas, pansies, peonies and hibiscus, which I misheard at age seven as "high biscuits."

Always laughing, Aunt Betty encouraged me to touch climbing vines and the hanging flowers she assured me were "happy" in baskets.  I never left her house without a fragrant flower in my hair. 

A few decades later in my own home, I received a check in the mail from Aunt Betty. I called to ask what the money was for, since it was long past my birthday and not even close to Christmas. I thought she might have sent it to me by some mistake. Before I could inquire, Aunt Betty said, "I know why you are calling Honey. You're going to tell me not to spend my money on you, but that money is for your flower bed." 

Aunt Betty knew I had space for a flowerbed and had been weeding and digging to remove sad, ragged, hap-hazzardly placed and ultimately uninspiring perennials. I followed Aunt Betty's advice and did what was necessary to feed the soil and prepare it for nurturing plants. Her check arrived in the last days of the summer.

I drove to a plant and garden nursery about 30 miles away to select some perennials that would be “happy” in my flowerbed in my plant zone. I put them in the bed and before laying a bed of cedar chips down, watered the plants thoroughly so they would be prepared for the coming cold. I made a little sign that I tucked in the flowerbed and took pictures to send.

The plants Aunt Betty paid for were not luscious and blooming because it was the end of summer. Still, I wanted Aunt Betty to see her gift. I also wanted her to know I would think of her every time I looked at the flowerbed, no matter the season.

A few months later, in 2008, Aunt Betty’s big heart finally gave out at age 84. No one had to ask if there were lots of flowers at the funeral.

Every Day was Earth Day for my Great Aunt Betty. It is for me too. Aunt Betty, Thank you.