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| I know the Canadian ginger is evergreen under the deep snow... |
It had been five months since I had stepped foot in my home. There was dust everywhere, with the boxes stacked about that my brother unloaded from his SUV, it looked more like an episode of Hoarders than my sweet house. The dust, debris, items of life strewn about, I have often wondered about those abandoned buildings ghost hunters frequent.
How many years does it take for places people lived in everyday to take on that desolate, dead look?
Not years at all, I find, just a couple months.
Canning jars, the grill from a car, a glue board with worms on it (?), notebooks, overturned furniture, leaves, flowers bulbs, dead flowers in a vase, greasy dishes, and everywhere dust. Dust, thick on everything.
License plates, fluffy seed heads, worn out shoes, sprinkler heads, plumbing parts, dirty towels on the floor, empty bottles of shampoo, flipped over rugs, furniture, empty boxes, and dust.
Dust and decay...
It is a bit like my life, dust and decay.
I think of the stories, "The Count of Monty Cristo," "Robinson Crusoe," and several others of life interrupted. I feel those are my stories.
Forty-four messages on the answering machine, before I had telephone service canceled, And dust.
As I come back into life, I have many choices to make. I am not the me I was. I don't think I ever will be again, but this is hopefully a new beginning, not an ending. Physically, I am not strong. Mentally, I have taken a direct hit. My brother says I have become angry. Maybe angry is better than depression, but I have bathed in that, too.
The last two months I have been taking stock. I have been trying. I have been digging deep. When life gives you lemons, making lemonade. I have been working all of that. The first three months of my to-date five month ordeal, was my healing phase. I am not done healing, but I do need to go forward, even if that forward motion is from necessity slow.
Like all of the United States, for me, this year, Spring can not come soon enough.
I have germinated hosta and heuchera. I am still a gardener, and will find faith in germination.
Oh my friend, I cannot imagine what the inner workings of your brain must be processing. You have been through so much, you are entitled to go slow. To change things up. to rethink everything. And I also think anger might be a better thing than complacency and surrender. Anger means you are fighting- you are a fighter. Rock on my awesome gardening friend. I hope you are having help cleaning up your dust. hugs!
ReplyDeleteCleaning the dust has been good exercise in small doses until I tire, then I rest and attempt again. There is profit to be had in the dust.
DeleteNice to visit this morning and hear your story. Thanks for sharing. JC
ReplyDeleteSort of a sad story...I much prefer gardening stories! But gardening teaches rebirth and renewal. I just hope I am not ready for composting! Thanks for checking in JC!
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