Ok, so the title makes it sound as if this is going to be all about vegetables, and it is, sort of. It’s also about mental health, mine specifically.
My youngest daughter, at the age of fourteen, took her own life a little over thirteen years ago. The year she died was the year I got my first allotment. She and my eldest daughter helped me clear it, but it was my youngest who I remember being there the most. It’s probably a false memory for all that, but she was having a rough time, self-harming and going to the plot was a bit of an outlet, or at least I think it was. It’s hard to say. I never saw what she did coming at all, so I can’t pretend to know what she was thinking, but she seemed happy there, helping me.
Anyway, on that little half plot, she planted some cauliflowers. I grew the plants from seed, and she planted them. We put nets over them. A few weeks later she was gone. That was in the August.
Come September there was a row of perfect, huge, cauliflowers. I’ve never managed to grow them since. They either bolt for the sky or do nothing much at all. I’ve had a few tennis ball size heads in the thirteen years since that crop.
Just lately I’ve had a bad time. The PTSD came back with a vengeance, and the OCD has had me screaming, quite literally. I’m now on anti-depressants, which have taken the edge off it and helped me sleep, which is a great help.
Well, a couple of weekends ago I was having it rough with the OCD. Everything was a problem, and my anxiety levels were so bad I didn’t even know I was anxious, just climbing the walls.
I went up to the plot for a few hours, it always does me good, even if I’m just sat there looking at weeds. This time I decided to harvest a few things. The last of the beans needed picking, there were tomatoes ripe on the vine, carrots, cabbage, and kale were all ready. I even dug up a row of spuds. Then I spotted a bit of white in the brassica nets and went over to have a look. White in the nets usually means a butterfly is laying a clump of eggs, which hatch out into brassica munching caterpillars.
So, I ducked under the net only to find a cabbage white butterfly and four perfect cauliflowers. One was like a football, the rest a little smaller. They looked like they’d just come out of a farm shop. I stood there and cried a little, because cauliflowers always make me think of my daughter, then went to the shed for my harvesting knife. As I cut them and trimmed them, then put them in a shopping bag, it was like she was stood there, right next to me, saying, “it’s alright dad, everything is fine.”
I let the butterfly go.
I took the cauliflowers home but, the next day, I was still climbing the walls, even after seeing the grandkids the days before. So, I went up to the plot again and, there under the nets, was another cauliflower. I swear it wasn’t there the day before. It was like she was there again. “Dad, it really is alright.”
I was alright for a while after that. I’ve been up and down a bit, but the anti-depressants are kicking in and I think I’m evening out again. Still, today at the plot I found another couple of cauliflowers under the nets, as if she’s still watching me. “See Dad? I told you you were alright.”
I don’t even remember planting cauliflowers this year but one thing I do know is that I’d do almost anything to hold her again.