Don pushed the trowel deep into the bag of potting soil, submerging his hand to the wrist. It was warm from the sun and compost that had been mixed in and he reveled in the sensation of soft heat. It was one of his favourite parts of gardening—the different, comforting sensations composed of scents and feelings that were composed of the earth. Today he was planting a late crop of green onion seeds, small delicate spots of black that speckled the inside of a small glassine envelope lying on the row next to him. His garden took up most of the backyard, half flowers and ornamentals and the other half vegetables and herbs; he'd been mostly confined to his home for the past three years and as a result, he spent hours working on growing things for eating and enjoyment.
He barely registered the sound of a familiar car pulling up into their driveway around the front of the house, as well as he sound of doors opening and shutting. There was high laugher, a female child and Don turned his head towards the house, already smiling in anticipation at the young girl that would come barreling around the side to find him. He sat back on his feet and sure enough after a minute of waiting, his son, daugher-in-law, and granddaughter appeared into view, Walter trailing behind them.
"Yeye!" the girl sang loudly, looking around for him.
"Hello, Henrietta!" he called out to his granddaughter.
Peter had been teaching her different languages and now she called him 'grandfather' in Mandarin instead of 'grandma' in English, which everyone had laughed over.
"Yeye!" she called out again, before spotting him amongst the young tomato plants.
As he had expected, the child broke free of her mother's hold and came running over to him.
"Careful!" Walter shouted, his smile disappearing as Olivia tried to grab her.
But Henrietta reached him before they could and threw her arms around him, the force of her small body knocking him backwards onto the dirt. He lie on his back, blinking and trying to catch his breath as his family rushed over to pull the four year old off of him.
"You can't do that, Etta!" Olivia chastised. "Donald is…well, you can't do that! You'll hurt him!"
Henrietta's eyes were large and sorrowful as she was lifted off him. "I'm sorry, Yeye."
He gave her a faint smile and extended his arm out to touch her hand. "It is all right, Henrietta. I know you did not mean to harm me."
"Help me get him into the house," Walter said frantically to Peter.
Don felt Walter hoist him up under his arms while Peter grabbed onto his legs; he looked up at Walter, who smiled at him tensely. Don smiled back as his vision began to fade in and out. Everyone's words became faint and he knew that he was about to pass out...