things.
We care for them.
We watch them grow.
Sometimes they are damaged.
Sometimes we have to begin again.
And eventually, if we pay attention, their meaning becomes clearer.
Roy had understood that long before I did.
Maybe that was why he planted the garden in the first place.
The garden Kyle said would grow back.
The garden that did grow back.
The garden that, in every way that mattered, had never really left.
