Grief gardening


Not a geranium. ;) But it is a flower I grew once and my kiddo took a picture of it.

Not a geranium. ;) But it is a flower I grew once and my kiddo took a picture of it.

I have to keep this post short, but I will explore this topic again soon.

In recent years, I have had more than my fair share of grief. Losses and fears sometimes seemed to swallow me. At one point, I really just wanted the pain to stop. I was in a labyrinth of my brain and I could find no way to safety.

After some intensive help and care, I start to make my most significant recovery from depression yet.

One of my ways to be peaceful and to learn to be alone was to sit on my deck and soak in the view. I wanted so badly to get a garden going, but by the time I had a hint of health back, it was too late for my grandiose plans. I managed to kill three tomatoes and a pepper, so I sat on the deck wondering what to do next.

I turned my attention to nurturing some annuals. My efforts were fruitful here, as the scraggly plants soon took on lush fullness when I worked on them.

I brought the plants indoors this winter because I just couldn’t face the cold months, when I had not managed to make the best use of my time on the warm ones! Moving the pots in was my way of saying, “I WILL NOT LET YOU DIE, little geranium!”

And I didn’t. The geraniums and two huge pots of some mystery annual are thriving in my front window and looking forward to more days outside, as am I.

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