It is mid February 1994. Winter's gloom is receding. Bird song greets me from my open window as our feathered friends seek out a mate and soon will commence their frenzied pursuits of nest building. A posy of snowdrops brightens the table, soon to be followed by daffodils, scillas or tulips. Oh the joys of spring!
This year though, is different. No daily exciting expedition along the garden paths to discover what new wonders have emerged; no delving with gentle fingers into the moist compost to allay a fear that some little treasure has succumbed to winter's rigours; no planting of vegetable seeds and so no expectations of those delectable, first picked, home-grown delights.
Instead I am imprisoned in a hospital ward, sitting by my mother's bedside. Hours turn into days, days into weeks. I know every detail of that room and of the dismal view of roof tops and endless chimney pots. The clock of the church tower sticks at 4.20. The traffic rumbles by and the ambulances wail their endless cry. It seems that spring has forsaken these dusty, busy streets.
We do our best to brighten my mother's last days. A special vase sits on her bedside locker. Each day it is refilled with flowers from her garden. It provides a conversation topic for those few occasions when she can summon up the energy to talk. That deep seated love of nature remains with her right to the end.
The weeks that followed my mother's death were so painful. A vital spirit had departed. The void was enormous and any little motivation I had seemed to evaporate. Then, at my lowest ebb, a ray of light appeared. Maura, a friend of my mother's, a fellow cancer sufferer, contacted me. Over a period of seven years their paths had crossed often. Each was inspired by the strength and courage of the other. Maura introduced me to ARC House, a Georgian terrace residence in Eccles Street in Dublin's city centre. The almost derelict house had recently been purchased and was in the process of refurbishment, to serve as a support centre for cancer sufferers and supporters. It was Maura's motive to divert my attention to the scene beyond the windows - a long, narrow rubbish dump enclosed by ugly high walls. 'That could be transformed into a most fitting memorial to a dedicated gardener' she commented.
The seed had been sown. I returned home with positive thoughts and an eagerness I had not experienced for many weeks. With the encouragement of my husband and the backing of the Irish Garderi Plant Society, a plan was drawn up. The aim has been to create a tranquil haven in which to wander or just sit - to contemplate alone or to share one's thoughts with a companion. The long narrow south-facing garden, with its meandering path, is divided by creeper¬clad trellises into three compartments. Nearest the house the plantings glow warm reds and pinks, progressing into the middle section to yellows, purples and blue. Here a tumbling fountain splashes, surrounded by elegant bamboos and swaying grasses. The shadier distant compartment sports greens, creams, silver and white. White climbing Iceberg roses clothe the north-facing wall around a blue painted door, the central point when viewed from the house. The remaining boundary walls are slowly being disguised. We are willing the various Clema tis, Ceonothus, Chaenomeles, Jasmine and Ivies to reach the top!
The plants have been carefully chosen. Special needs cannot be catered for in this communal garden, whose upkeep is dependent on volunteers. We have endeavoured to provide something of interest for all seasons and sought out, where possible, scented varieties. Although the garden is comparatively small (approx. 27m x 8m) three trees have been included. The pure white barked birch, Betula utilis 'Trinity College' nestles in the corner of the white area and the yellow berried Mountain Ash, Sorbus 'Joseph Rock' backdrops the pool. A honey locust, Gleditsia 'Ruby Lace', with its delicate deep red frond-like leaves stands in sole splendour in the mid line between the house and blue door as the major focal point.
The garden was officially opened in May 1998. Over 6000 people passed through ARC's door last year. I am told many come into the garden. For some the confines of four walls become overbearing. The rest can certainly view it to advantage from the many overlooking windows. The variations in perspective from basement to floor five are very interesting! We have even provided a basic set or tools for those inclined to do a bit of gardening! Yoga classes and discussion groups have been known to take place on the lawn. Big parties as fund-raisers are proving successful. In fact the garden gives an added facility to the already valuable services provided inside the house - a 'room outside'.
I frequently sit and contemplate here. How I would have appreciated and benefitted from such a place during my vigil of 1994. Now it is my dearest wish that all who use this garden ¬sufferers, carers and supporters - find inspiration to face tomorrow with courage and with hope.
In addition to assistance from the Irish Garden Plant Society, donations of both money and plants were received from many sources. I was deeply touched by the generosity of members of Howth and Sutton Horticultural Society. I know they remember my mother with affection.
ARC House, 65 Eccles Street (opposite the Mater Private Hospital) is open Monday to Friday 10.00 a.m. - 5.00 p.m. Visitors to house and garden are always welcome.