Bettina Zerante

In Memory of My Dad

With every summer, I find more of my dad in myself. He spent his summers in the yard, patiently tending a sustainable garden — building compost, starting seedlings, and growing food with the same quiet dedication he brought to his life as a lifelong science teacher and head of the Marian Catholic High School Science Department.

I think of him most when I’m tending my own plants — even if mine began as a few containers on a balcony. The first year I lived in University Commons, I tried to grow tomatoes and ended up with just one. When I told him, he didn’t tease me. He simply texted back: “You’re a real gardener now.” That moment has stayed with me through every harvest since.

My dad also shared his love of good food, most of all in the kitchen, where his homemade Italian meals — especially gnocchi — became part of the rhythm of our family life.

Though he is gone, his memory blooms strongest in summer: in morning coffee outdoors, in the dirt under my fingernails, on long bike rides, and in the quiet of a good book.

This container is dedicated to him — as a living reminder of the lasting roots he left in his students, his community, and his family.