The comforting sound of wind chimes

Ryan was helpful around the yard.  At first, I thought he was just trying to make things easier for me.

It would start with him keeping me company as I worked on something, and before I knew it, he had taken the shovel away to do the job himself.

Over the years, it progressed to him asking if I had a job for him on his day off.

I think he had come to enjoy gardening.  Or maybe he just knew that I loved it and he loved me, so wanted to help.

He built this entire sidewalk for me, one shovel full of gravel at a time.  As the rocks settled over time, twice, he took the truck to the  garden center, to buy more stone, and surprised me by touching up the balding spots.

The deep, dark pink rose bush is one that he bought for Mother’s Day two years ago.  He surprised me after planting it.

Lately, with my husband retired and Ryan working long hours at the nursing home, we got a lot of jobs done daily while he was at work.

Ry was always interested in seeing what we’d done, and would walk around the yard, complimenting the progress.  He told me that he liked to stand on his deck and look out over the yard and enjoy How pretty it looked.

I mentioned that the only thing we needed to complete the redo was some wind chimes or a fountain.

On Mother’s Day, he brought me these beauties, and he moved them from one end of the yard to the other, looking for the best spot to catch the most breeze.

The day he died, Rich and I spent much of our day in the gazebo, listening to the chimes.  The weather was ideal, there was a slight breeze making the soothing sounds pretty much continuous.  

Since then, caring loved ones have sent us some more sets to hang in the gazebo.  

We added some to a nearby branch, also.

Each has its own, soft set of notes that are slightly lighter  than the deep tones from Ryan’s gift.  The dogs run through the gazebo, wagging tails that make the chimes sing when there isn’t a breeze to to the job.

We spend time out there together, holding hands, drinking coffee in the morning or wine in the evening, listening, and thinking about our boy.