I needed to creep from my bed and couch and rejoin the plans of life. Creep was the operative word. Going so slowly as to barely ripple the water or the air that you breathe. I crept around through the winter from one task to the next. One hand over t the next. Finding my way in a shuffling creep of "I have nothing to look forward to tomorrow. Creep out on loving children's radar and ask if they can help with this pace. I can't get to the future in a creeping crawling gait. "Mom, you need a goal. Something to take up . Something that won't make it until you bump it along toward survival" "Son I don't care, really about any of this , I'm not for sure what I will do. Codi, calling and asking about the garden.
What could we buy at Lowe's that you could make something out of or paint or do crafts." She asked and we got lillies.
I planted these lillies with an "okay, I'll do this so you won't all worry that I'm drowning in sorrow over illness" Didn't really care that day, journaled that I was so cold, but I would get them in the ground and call my kids and tell them what I had accomplished. These lillies represent the role reversal played out on our stage this spring. "I don't think that I can survive this disaster of sickness" "Yes, mom, you can. Go plant one thing and walk back in and call me" Call your brother and tell him I have planted 3 things. "you call him, mom, wait until you catch your breath and you call him" "Hi, Jake, I did it. I've been outside and found the shovel and dug a hole and put that ugly tuber in the cold ground" "Okay, mom, rest, read, go plant one more, then call Sach". We worked our way through day after day, and when Eddy came home, I was sparkly about planting 3 things today. He started bringing random seeds from the dollar store. "Call me mom when you have planted one package" A garden grows in Brooklyn, a garden grows in Bentonville, and a garden grows in Salem. A garden of care grew between the 5 of us with Codi right there to call me and pump me up and let me cry. Then to send me roses, and money for dirt. Love is a many splendored thing.
Why You Have Come Here
If you have arrived here seeking sanctity or blessing, then you will have to provide your own cloak and dagger. I only confess to the daily struggle to treat the world with the respect it has earned in my estimation. We all look to the sky and wonder. I feel the whisper of the ages calling and know not what flutter or ripple calls true. My approach is to touch your life in only the manner in which you prefer. As we all must suffer at some time, then I feel we all deserve, also, the right to laugh. My smile is my weapon, and at times my words also I use to defend.