The Magical Garden of Lisa
When I look out at this room, I see more than just familiar faces—I see a living, breathing garden. A garden planted, nurtured, and lovingly tended by our Lisa.
Not just the magical garden she and Henry created at the top of Colton and Hemlock—a place where flowers grow as freely as laughter—but an even more extraordinary one: a garden of friendship, love, and joy that she cultivated in the hearts of every person present here.
This was Lisa’s true masterpiece!
Each one of us is a “nip nip’d” bloom in that garden—a unique and vibrant part of the tapestry she wove through her kindness, her energy, and her unwavering presence.
She pollinated our relationships with gentle encouragement, watered our lives with her radiant laughter, and rooted us all in a soil rich with compassion and care.
None of us are the same—different colors, shapes, temperaments, and needs. All in different seasons in life. But that was the beauty of it…Lisa celebrated the diversity of her garden. She didn’t seek uniformity—she cherished individuality. And like any great gardener, she understood that growth doesn’t always come easily.
There were droughts.
There were frosts.
Weeds.
And even some storms…
…and times when the blooms wilted under the weight of life.
Somehow, with Lisa—The sun always came back brighter than ever.
And when this happened, we all bloomed again. Each of us shining in our own light, showing our best colors—not to outshine one another, but to create something beautiful together. A bouquet of hand-picked characters living side by side, flourishing in harmony.
If one of us began to droop, Lisa knew just what to do. Sometimes it was a thoughtful word. Sometimes a warm amazing hug. And sometimes, it was just a “summer drink” shared on the veranda, beneath twinkle lights and laughter. Her presence was nourishment. Her spirit, a constant invitation to come back to life.
At the Ryman-Miner Terrace, there was room for everyone—our dogs, our children…birds, butterflies and other wild things, even the occasional skunk attack. She welcomed them all. She believed every soul had a purpose, every visitor a part to play. She didn’t just allow this wild, wonderful mix—she loved it.
And oh, the sound of that garden...
All that laughter that rose like a breeze through the hills. Laughter—joyful, full-bodied, and uncontrollable at times—shaking through us until our bellies ached and our hearts felt lighter.
It wasn’t just noise. It was music. It was life. It may have even been cocktail induced?!
It was Lisa.
Today, as I look out at all of you—this radiant garden—I feel something powerful:
We are still connected.
Even though our sweet, beautiful gardener has left the visible world, we are bound together by the threads she spun between us. The roots she planted run deep. The light she shared continues to shine. Her hand painted masterpieces sprinkled through our homes.
Lisa Ryman Miner—my magnificent friend,
You taught us how to grow.
You showed us how to love openly, laugh deeply, and live fully.
I am forever grateful to have walked through your garden,
To have known your voice, your spirit, your boundless heart. And though you are no longer with us in form, your essence still blooms in each of us.
I will carry the sound of your laughter with me, always.Dancing among the petals of memory, forever blooming in my heart.
