My Garden of Solitude

You and me, Dad. Adventurers.

Dad and I were adventurers in our own garden. He kept a garden of fruits, vegetables, herbs and flowers where we’d spend hours at a time planting, watering, harvesting, and discovering. The garden grew as I grew, turning into a jungle where we’d play, seek refuge in the shade under the canopy of trees, and listen to the breeze against the leaves. He taught me the valuable importance of life with every drop of water and the warmth of the sun, perseverance through the removal of each difficult weed, and joy with each newfound plant, fruit, and rosebud. Our urban garden brought with it visitors both regular and peculiar. We listened to the songs of the birds, watched as mice scurried across the way, and drove off meddling squirrels and, at one time, drove off a hen that snuck into the house in an attempt to lay eggs on his comfy bed. (She came into our suburban city home like she owned the place, she’d never even been inside before when she ran in, rounded the corner, and jumped onto his bed.)

We developed a unique language that no one else understood that changed based on what animals we imitated, the basis of it being that we spoke with our hearts. He had such a love for animals and nature and I’m so glad I had a chance to share in it all with him. We always talked about traveling the world, but the comfort of home seemed to bring the best out of us.

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I created this digital garden blog over a year ago after my dear father’s passing. Now my Garden of Solitude exists both in this digital realm as well as in our physical reality. The plan was to use this space hidden in plain sight as a place I could come to seek refuge in my thoughts, work through the whirlwind of emotions I was sure I’d face in the year of mourning following his passing, document and make sense of my journey through one of the most difficult periods of my life, then come out of it all with a new vision of life and with it a new way to express myself creatively.

This Garden of Solitude emerged as my personal reimagined fortress similar to that of Superman’s Fortress of Solitude. The Fortress of Solitude, Superman’s secret hideaway hidden far from his home in Smallville (and later Metropolis), is where Clark goes to seek refuge, train, meditate, sort out his thoughts, learn about his Kryptonian roots, and honor his Kryptonian parents. (He even speaks to his Kryptonian father’s spirit within the Fortress in certain series). In Superman: The Animated Series, Clark also keeps an animal sanctuary of orphaned alien lifeforms in his Fortress. I’d like to consider my garden as a sanctuary for weary animal (and online) travelers, but the squirrels tend to overstay their welcome.

A year and some months have passed since my father left this world, and I went through this difficult, strange time without much documented reflection. I do, however, have some notes and thoughts I’ve jotted down along the way that I plan on sharing here before I look to the future of ideas and stories yet to unfold.

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Thank you, Dad, for teaching me how to love this life, to water the plants to grow healthy and strong. Thank you for hugging me tight and for throwing me up high like I knew how to fly. It's thanks to you that I have the wonder and excitement for adventure. Wherever I go in this world, I’ll always remember that I had your hand in helping me grow. Having you was like having Superman by my side, and you’ll always be with me like I’ll always be with you.

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It’s been nearly 500 days since I last held his hand. <3


Here’s to adventure.