The Big Guy

My 14 year old could have been 4 today. 

“There’s snow!  I saw it from the plane!  Dad said he’s going to take us to where there’s snow!”

Coming from a kid who barely blinks at most things I find amazing, this was over the top, quick take his temperature, enthusiasm.     


Imagine his joy for the real stuff!


And I felt so good talking to him today.  He’s on an adventure with just his dad where I won’t be telling him he really ought to be getting into the shower, as in NOW, checking that’s he’s put on sunscreen, or barreling ahead to point out what I think could possibly be poison ivy.  He’ll get blisters, he’ll get sunburned, he’ll reek to high heaven, and he’ll be thousands of miles away from any comment (or worse…suggestions) from me.  Heaven to a teenage boy, I’m sure, and heaven to a mom who’s happily oblivious of his hygienic state.  Ahhhh…..

So why put this in a garden blog?  Well, it’s nature, and it’s wild, which my garden is getting to be these days – partly by choice, but mostly from too much necessary time away from it - more than I care to spend away from it, but life circumstances make it so. 

Speaking of wild.... I wonder if they'll encounter an exuberant Two-headed dog?

And, today I am so grateful for a conversation I had weeks ago.  My husband was about to head out for his yearly yoga retreat and wanted to talk about my mom’s illness.  He asked what I would do if she died while he was away, and offered to not  go if I perceived it to be greatly problematic.  I thought about it, and knew deep down that only one thing was important to me, and that was simply this: people need to live.

Gleanings of his interest early on, as in on the wall, on his desk, in the basket, and on the floor.

So much of what my mother went through indicated to me that being overly cautious, anxious, tentative, etc. stops us from living.  Since he asked, I jumped immediately ahead to the planned father-son Sasquatch seeking trip and said under no circumstances would I want that changed.  My son has been looking forward to it for almost a year, has read enough to earn an honorary doctorate in cryptozoology from Bigfoot U., and has endured my ridicule and sarcasm for months (my favorite delivered with over-abundant guffaws was this beauty:  “Watch you don’t get Sas-squooshed! ”).  Tee-hee!

Man, is he ever going to be mad at me for this.  So freakin' worth it!

So, like in the garden, when I accept as truth all the possible ways something could go wrong, I don’t stretch.  I’ve been told certain things won’t grow here, and I’m sure I’d still believe that if I hadn’t tried.  Forget Brussels sprouts (and really, shouldn’t we all?), but nevertheless, they are growing in my garden even though the garden books suggest it’s way too hot here.  They didn’t take into account the amount of rain we’ve had this year or the cooler spring temps which got the crop going.

So that’s the key…circumstances may be similar from year to year, but they’re always unique.  In my own life, I can think of many times when Plans B, C, or D replaced Plan A.  When my snow-delighted boy was born, I said forget the generic baby books, I want the book for this special one-of-a-kind model.  But alas, there was no book for a work in progress.  Life’s the same…we can’t write it, we need to allow ourselves to be open and to freely live it.

Flowers

There’s a reason the family of the deceased makes the “in lieu of flowers…” request. 

No, there are at least two reasons.   

Money spent on flowers can be put to much greater use if spent to perpetuate causes the deceased believed in or places that mattered to them.  When my father died, he had his obituary ready with the sole request for all donations in his memory to be made to the Salvation Army.  When he was a kid, this is where his family went to get bikes, toys, clothes, and household supplies.  He figured, if people are going to give money, give it to a place that makes a difference for those who do not have much to give themselves.  I know today that might sound presumptuous, but in his day and age, only the poor looked for things at the Salvation Army, and it was the poor he was looking out for and trying to help along.

I’ve just recently discovered the less obvious second reason for the request only because of a feeling that came over me.  Not everyone follows the “in lieu of flowers…” request.  Some send flowers anyway or in addition to the cause because let’s face it, flowers are nice.  At my sister’s house, near where my mother had lived, there are loads of bouquets sent in memory of my mother which were carried from the church to the place where everyone gathered afterwards.  One arrangement in particular caught my eye.  It had deep purple flowers among others in a lovely vase.  I considered asking if I could take it home with me when I left since there were so many others, but I stopped before I could even finish the thought.  I became overwhelmed with the realization that the flowers would die, and that was something I didn’t want to see happen to the beautiful blooms in front of me.  The empty vase, regardless of what I might fill it with in the future would always remind me of the emptiness I feel inside.

I didn’t ask to take them.  Remembering them would be so much better.

Then today, as I was in the garden, I spent time looking at all the flowers around me.  I rarely, if ever, cut my flowers and bring them into the house for an arrangement.  I like my flowers to peak in their natural environs, and rarely do I even snip off the dying ones.  I see the plants’ progression to be a thing of beauty without need for cosmetic surgery.  My flowers are abundant, and for the first time, I considered snipping a few and bringing them inside.  At first I leaned towards my usual way of doing things (in this case, my usual way of not doing it) but decided, why not?  In the garden, I might spend a few hours a day enjoying what’s around me.  The flowers could extend that time, and could serve as the memorial bouquet that I wanted. 

Yes, I know these too will die, but it’s different here.  These can be replaced with the ones yet to bloom, and after each arrangement moves beyond its peak, the compost bin will accept the debris as part of the cycle for the next growing season.  My flowers belong here, and will continue to be here season after season.  As one variety slips into dormancy, another will begin to grow in force, allowing my bouquet to alter gradually.  Plus, the pieces of the bouquet, the individual varieties, are with me in the garden.  Parts of the whole, they show me that beauty exists in different contexts, and there’s a place for each.