My father was a hard man. He didn't want children and my mother wanted them - desperately. We were estranged for many years, but grew closer in the years before he died in 2003. One thing he did give me was my love of gardening. I used to say plants grew for my father - not out of nurture, but out of fear. He truly had a green thumb; things that should never have grown in our north Florida yard miraculously flourished, and things that were commonplace grew to monumental proportions. Witness this "hedge" of poinsettias:
To this day, the sharp scent of tomato leaves reminds me of my father.
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