An observation of newfound independence,

womanhood and a garden unfolding

Filmed in June of 2021,

just months after a devastating ice storm

and within the expanse of the COVID 19 pandemic,

this short film takes us on

a journey through a new widow’s garden.

 
 

Full Transcription

My mom’s mom 

came here 

with my grandfather.


Well they came during the Mexican Revolution

when all of that was going on.

They came here 

and they were farm workers.

They settled in the town of 

Brawley, California,

and my mom was born there. 

And then

when the Mexican Revolution was kind of over,

my grandfather wanted to go back to Mexico 

And my grandmother didn’t want to go back. 

So I come from a line of really strong women.

My grandmother said,

“No, I’m gonna stay here with my daughter because

this is a better place.” 

My grandmother and my mother were both gardeners.

Both of them taught me a lot. 

My grandmother would pot up little things

and she would have them for sale outside of her fence. 

And you know,

people would come by and…

She had mostly cactuses and things like that. 

My Mom often took us to gardens.

We planted a rose for her

And buried her ashes under it. 

And I always sense her presence here.

It was just an acre with just blackberries

and it had no trees,

because it had just been pasture. 

And um,

it had a few Douglas Firs around it. 


We just started planting. 

You know, 

You can kind of get lost in time.

I just enjoy the four seasons of the garden 

you know,

looking out the window

and seeing it change 

over the four seasons.

We’re fortunate here in Oregon to have the four seasons.

There’s always something which needs to be done

in the garden.  

I think being in the garden is really spiritual

You know,

The awakening in spring,   

seeing things come back,

you’re happy to see little things come back,

you know that,

after the winter sleep,

you see things come back

It’s always fun to see that.

I wasn’t very fond of that ice storm that we got.

We’ve never had an ice storm like that,

and to hear

the cracking of the trees-

It sounded like glass breaking.

That was just so eerie.

And then to wake up and to see 

all the branches of trees

that we’d had.

Well we’d probably had them for forty years.

And to see them all broken 

And gone.

Well we had to just get rid of those trees

that were damaged.

I was glad that Roger wasn't here,

because it was stuff that he planted,

because he always enjoyed his trees

and um

he had planted so many trees. 

but it was time for them to go, too.


Everything has a new life


You know it just opened up the garden. 

It opened up my yard

to new possibilities, I guess.

I've never lived alone.

I married at 18

and went from my home to a home with Roger.

And so it's been really…

it's been really nice

to just be alone

and know that

any decisions that I make 

are mine,

you know.


And I have enjoyed that.

You know

the only thing was the ice storm 

and that

even that 

I was surprised how well I went through that.

And you know

making the decision of

hiring somebody to

get rid of all of that

and to...

It was 

It was easier than I thought it would be.

And the garden was was reassuring

You know,

things came back

and it was nice

to be here

Did you know that it was going to be like that?

No I didn't.

And...

it's been good.

I wish we could have-

I wish like every woman could have 

big periods of their life

where they could be alone 

without having to make that 

about leaving a man

you know?

I know.

I know.

And I wish that it didn't happen when they were 70, 

you know,

I wish it could be earlier, or, 

for sure...

I've always thought that if Roger wasn't here

I would leave immediately 

and sell the house

and so having COVID made me appreciate this even more

you know


To just be here, and settle in, and enjoy it.

It's wonderful.

I've liked it a lot.

I feel good living here.

And

I like being alone.


I've just kind of rested in that.

It's been... it's been really nice.