Remembering Harry on this Memorial Day

Every Memorial Day, I remember of my neighbor, Harry Palmer, a WWII veteran, perfect neighbor and default grandfather. He was very involved in the local VFW. He collected and repaired wheelchairs for needy veterans. Every year he placed American flags on graves of veterans at the Edmonds Memorial Cemetery. We would accompany him to watch the Memorial Day Observance, filled with pride to be with him and for who he was.

He left this world when he was in his 80’s, but is always in my heart especially when I am in the backyard. This house is our first home to own and our first yard/garden. For years, we experimented, planted, moved, gave away plants that became unwieldy. But Harry was my garden fairy for inspiration, my guiding light to what I love most in yard we have today.

Harry gave me my first potted Hydrangea as a birthday gift. I fell in love and planted many more, 13+ to be exact, crammed back in our small space. I still have the first "Harry Hydrangea". He introduced me to Sweet Peas, taught me about growing them, soaking them and planting them on St. Patrick's Day. Sweet Peas, and the delicate scent, will always be one of my favorite flowers.

But Harry's favorite flower was the dahlia. He planted them every year, dug them up every fall, stored them for the next year. He had a backyard full of them and I was the recipient of many a generous, jewel-colored dahlia bouquet.

Harry hated our enormous Sweet Gum tree. He had long past cut all the trees from his yard. He hated our grapes. They littered his yard and I would venture over and clean up the fallen leaves to appease him.

One day, I found him in our backyard with his chain saw, eyeing the grapes that divided our yard from his. He told me that David gave him permission “to go ahead and cut down the grapes.” I said, "Hold on there, David doesn't make those decisions without me having some input and I say NO". He chuckled, had given it his best shot and went back to his mowing, or building something.

We have and have had the best neighbors. A home and a neighborhood street have many glorious memories. Our yard has even more. Toddlers running through water sprinklers, spending sunny afternoons with my son in the baby pool, tree swings, making "mud pies" decorated with flower petals, lunch and then an afternoon nap in the “fort”. But the precious memories are birthday parties for our baby son, our neighbors with us to celebrate. Harry is an important part of that memory. He is never further away than a glance at his hydrangea, a whiff of sweet pea or a structured dahlia. We remember Harry with love on this Memorial Day.