Julia and I finally got outside to do some gardening. No, the grass is not mowed and no, the beds still are a mess, but I got beginning work done -- arranging the compost bins to be emptied and to receive more garden waste, I called the young man who mowed for me in July and hope to employ him again, and I did a bit of gross weeding, that is pulling weeds that were threatening to take over the City of Madison. I have a few weeks worth of work to do, but boy, does it feel good to get outside. It was not quite the meditation that it usually is with Julia in and around, but it felt so good. I am ready to assume these tasks again and it feels like it has taken a very long time.
When I was young -- late teens and very early 20's -- I reacted to depression by not combing my hair. My hair can look pretty okay with just superficial care and I let that go to the limit. I no longer neglect my personal appearance quite that much, but I have let me garden go in just the same way. If it were not for professional help twice this summer, i would have a jungle. I love my garden and it has hurt me to see it go so wild, but I could not force myself to take care of it. But gardens are patient and most perennials, at least the ones that I plant, are sturdy. They have waited for me. They have bloomed on time, tried to delight me, and then waited.
And finally, I am back.
I had a great work PTO meeting on Saturday. I am grateful for the help which will allow me to continue as president but provide some extra support because I cannot do all that I expect of the job. Again, I bask in the sunshine of friends. Today, I wrote a welcome message for the newsletter and a bunch of emails to make sure of committee chairs. Again, work that should have been done a few weeks ago, but work that I just could not make myself do.
This grief process probably has some rules, but boy, no one gave me the manual.
I have so many emails that I've collected since July that need answering. So many cards and wishes to say thank you for. So many kindnesses that need my gratitude. That I am not ready for yet. I hope soon, and I hope that those who sent messages and cards, and were so kind are like my sturdy perennials and are willing to wait for me.
2 comments:
I am glad you are returning to your gardening. Green growing things are the best emotional stabilizers I know of -- I have often fantasized that they convert human emotional trauma as ethereal compost, leaving us feeling clean and renewed, and growing strong and tall in the process.
Sharyn, I completely agree. And to further your fantasy, the gardener has to be ready for that process. Slowly, i am returning to ready.
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