I say I’m a self-taught gardener, but that is incorrect. I first fell in love with gardening when visiting a neighbor’s garden. My friend Glennis gave me my first gardening lessons.
Seemingly a strong independent person, the truth is I was an injured bird, not raised but grown up in poverty. I hid a deep reservoir of pain from abandonment and various tortures. Having no interest in pity for myself, I kept busy and found joy in my child and the things I could learn and do.
But injured birds are fragile.
It was over 50 years ago. I hadn’t…
“Happy Mother’s Day.” I wish I’d said these words to you when you were alive.
I didn’t know. I knew there must have been someone because I had memories. Lovely memories. I remembered:
saying my prayers
warm water running from my head to my toes
being in someone's arms
Memories that had nothing in common with my life. I knew I wasn’t right — that something was wrong. But I didn’t know what.
I don’t blame my birth mother. It must have been hard for her to raise a child that was critical of…
My lovely Springtime. You give birth to floral glory year after year and ask nothing in return. Thank you for the flowers peeking through the earth. Thank you for the green just beginning to be seen. You’re faithful in the energy you give each year. And I'm grateful. So grateful.
Your power is magical. You give us long- long moments of awe.
A pause. A time to stop and feel.
And it happens every year. I remember as a child I’d hope the feelings I had when you arrived would spread and…